


Laughing Bats & Broken Clowns

by BadgerDame



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Batjokes, Bonding, Character Study, Codependency, Dark Multiverse, Dark Nights Metal, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Instability, Mutual Pining, Pre-Canon, Psychological Trauma, Slight fluff, Smut, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-11-06 10:07:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17937788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadgerDame/pseuds/BadgerDame
Summary: The Batman Who Laughs has visited many worlds in the Dark Multiverse for the past year as he was gathering other evil Batmen to attack the light above. Not once coming across any living Jokers. Until now. A Joker who killed his own Batman. And, the old familiar dance they both have missed takes on a new routine.





	1. Chapter 1

The Dark Multiverse was a vast twisted dimension that spanned onwards and onwards, seemingly endless. Although, the worlds were wrong from the start, unstable, never meant to exist and would always break apart and die, countless more would replace them. Worlds born from every single thought about bad decision and nightmare the light above could offer. Each inhabitant of those worlds were just born unlucky. Doomed to face the sickening joke of their horrendous existence. It was funny, hilarious in the irony at least for the Batman Who Laughs. The worst nightmare creation the dark could ever have.

 

Another sort of irony caught his attention quickly when after a year of traversing the Dark Multiverse in service of his master Barbatos that he hasn’t stumbled upon a single living Joker. For it became apparent that Jokers just couldn’t last long in these universes. Humorous in hindsight given Joker seemed like the perfect candidate to thrive in the twisted worlds that were birthed in the dark. _But, that wasn’t the case._ Not with their unpredictable nature and one tracked obsessions with their own worlds Batman. It left them unadaptable to the change to survive. Targets for worst nightmares to take them out of the games earlier on. Generally, by their own Batman, but not always. The Bat Who Laughs, was becoming increasingly more accustomed to believing he would never see a version of the clown _-that on his world helped him see the joke-_ again. That was fine and dandy. He’d have fun with the ever growing list of playgrounds with or without a certain clown ever making an appearance.

 

Until today, in earth negative seven hundred and six, Batman was proven wrong. An, earth that he found himself on after recruiting the Merciless Batman. His comrades staying behind as per the norm. Only, rarely did the other Dark Knights accompany him. Even his favored son stayed behind this time. This earth was a post apocalyptic world. _Ha! Nothing new there!_ One that in two weeks time would break apart and fade away, like all the other worlds in the dark. The sound of familiar laughter had caught Batman’s full attention. Jarring him in ways, he didn’t think was possible anymore. It wasn’t like he didn’t expect to find the Joker alive in this world. In fact, that’s what drove him here in the first place.  

 

_The opportunity to find a broken clown was just too tempting to pass up._

 

For on this earth the Batman had met his end by no other than the Joker. A cycle he’s seen on previous earths though not an outcome that was always prominent. Generally, it was the other way around, just like on his own world. However, this brought upon something new. _A Joker alone without a Batman to play with._ And, this earth suffered for the clown’s grief. If this place offered any survivors then they were few and far between.

 

His _Jokerized_ Robins crowed at his feet and tugged on their chains. The smell of fresh blood making them ravenous. He might have let his pets off their leash if he didn’t know exactly what was causing that scent in the air. For earlier he had allowed just one of the Robins lose to scan the area in search of the Joker. Knowing already what would happen. Not much of a loss. He had plenty more where that one came from, all thanks to his own dead world’s Joker.

 

Tying the chains of his pets to a rundown car to keep them at bay for now, his grin widened as he heard another agonized crow cry on the wind. The clown must have been having fun with his gift. Batman hummed to himself as he followed the cries to its location, but the smile became a frown when he actually saw the Clown Prince of Crime. He wasn’t even able to bring forth a laugh at the crowbar taking yet another Robin’s life.

 

It was unpleasant the emotions that rushed him in that moment. A flicker of nostalgia that shouldn’t have affected him at all. Batman never felt this way when he saw counterparts to his own Bat-family that he gunned down on his world without a second thought. Didn’t even care for any Alfreds that were alive on other worlds. But, seeing a living Joker just didn’t spark the same cold apathetic nature within him. Making him question more if Barbatos could foresee this being an outcome and never showed him earths with any Jokers alive for this very reason, until this very moment. A plausible assumption that he wouldn’t voice outright.

 

All he could do right now is just take in the sight of the clown -currently unaware of his presence-appearance. The usually immaculate purple suit had seen better days. Blood stains coated so much of the tattered attire that it lessened the flashy impact it was known for. Green hair that was generally combed to perfection was messy upon the clown’s head. Even makeup that Batman knew that Jokers usually spent a good while of applying was left a smudged mess. The clown simply lost the will to keep his appearance up to tip-top shape after the death of his Bat. Blue eyes hidden behind the spiked headpiece this particular Batman wore moved downwards to the bloody heap of his once chipper pet. The child’s limbs broken and head completely bashed in at this point, body twitching, but was obviously dead. And, yet the clown continued to swing the crowbar again and again in a trance like state.

 

_Perhaps, nostalgia had gripped the Joker as well as the laughing Bat._

 

_It was such a humorous twist of fate that it finally brought a good earned laugh out of him._

 

_And, any trance the Joker might have been in broke by a sound that was only heard once on a rainy night at an abandoned amusement park years ago in their shared history._

 

Joker’s movements ceased instantly, his hand stopping in mid-swing. Body going stock still as he stared at the familiar, yet unfamiliar presence of Batman. Seemingly, in disbelief of what he was seeing. And, Batman couldn’t blame him. Very few knew of the cruel joke their worlds were spawned in. Although, Batman knew he was in the company of someone who would actually see the funny side to it all. Another wave of unpleasant emotions hit him, but he refused to ever let it show. Not towards or in front of a Joker. Despite, how bonded they truly were in the form of himself. He still was a Batman.

 

The clown straightens up. Arms dropping to his side as his grip on the crowbar tightens. He glances towards the once deranged child’s body on the ground, then back towards the Batman Who Laughs. Once, twice, a third time and then he finally speaks. _“Must be hallucinating again.”_ He says more to himself, and that brings a wide grin to Batman’s face. The clown shrugs; disregarding everything he sees now and starts to take a step to leave. Batman doesn’t let him, not psychically stopping him, but using his words to the same effect.

 

“ _Au contraire, Joker,_ what is happening is that you’re finally seeing the _truth_ that you’ve been _blinded_ to this whole time,” the Batman speaks ominously and catches the Joker’s full attention this time around. “A punchline to the greatest joke ever told and you’re not even the one to tell it. _Ha_! It’s quite amusing, when you stop and think about it.” He barks out more uncontrollable laughter, that the Joker doesn’t follow suite with. Instead the lesser maniac of the two turns to face him with a frown on his countenance.

 

“Haven’t had the stomach to _tell_ or _hear_ any _jokes_ for a while now,” is all Joker responds. A slight wince at his own comments and the depressing memories it brings forth for him. “Not much is very _funny_ these days.”

 

It’s downright pitiful how much this Joker has fallen into despair. Desolate in every aspect. Though, Batman isn’t surprised. The clowns by nature were nothing without their Batman. Unable to function without their better other half. Lost without any purpose. That’s what made himself better than any Joker could ever achieve. Never once being hindered by that narrow mindedness to accomplish his goals. Not even his own Joker could grasp that concept fully before he killed him. _Only a Batman could._ _Adaptable to win every time._ Yet, right now. Even if the sight is humorous in certain aspects, he’s also left feeling bitter and resentful in other ways.

 

_A past reminder of the few days before the toxin in his Joker’s heart took full effect of him of his own momentarily melancholy._

_The temporary regret he felt at breaking his one pointless rule he once held so dear._

 

_And, no longer hindered by restraints the acknowledgment that what Batman truly felt at the time, regardless, of self-denial then, was that he missed having the Joker around to play games with._

 

_Now, he can just laugh away all that unpleasantness._

 

_Adapt._

 

_Adapt._

 

_Don’t think about it._

 

_Adapt._

 

“Understandable. That tends to happen... when you butcher your _favorite_ audience member.” Batman remarks with no lack of hesitance to twist the metaphorical knife in the Joker’s heart. “Takes away any joy of putting on a show; doesn’t it?” He glances around the destroyed remains of Gotham City. Gesturing with his arms out-wide. Ruby lips split into an unnatural smile. Similar to the Joker’s own. “And, what a great _finale_ it must have been. Too bad, _Batman_ wasn’t around to see it. Does it keep you up at night, _wondering_ if he’d get a _laugh_ out of all he’s missed?” Green eyes narrow at him. He can see the seething rage building up in the lithe form of the clown. Murderous intent that is so familiar for this particular Batman that he welcomes the sight like an old friend.

 

Joker lets out a humorless laugh. “ _Ya know, it’s a tad funny,_ that you think I care what some _edge-lord_ pimped out in leather has to say,” His voice is more deadpanned than anything. Lacking the usual charisma. “But, _heh,_ careful what you say about, _Batsy._ Just a word of advice.” Batman knows Joker has no intention of letting him walk away alive. At least not yet. Nor, could the clown actually win in a fight against him, but that’s beside the point. He’s already killed one Joker, killing another would be child’s play.

 

“Here’s what you’re not seeming to grasp. _Fine._ I’ll spell it out for you,” a chuckle. “I can answer that question for you. Do you _wanna_ know what _Batman_ would think of all you’ve done?” Batman starts to persuade. Barely holding back snickers from the Joker’s lack of observational skills right now. _Blind._ The clown’s blind to the truth staring him right in the face.

 

“I already know, what _my Bat_ would feel,” Joker snaps with venom in his voice. “He’d _hate_ it. Make me _bleed_ for every little life I took. Hurt me in all those wonderful _love taps_ he would give. And, I’d laugh every step of the way. Because, it would be adorable how grumpy he’d get. Then we’d play and play again together,” he takes a step forward then. His mood turning foul. The Batman just smiles at him. Not retreating from the destroyer of this earth. _“That’ll never happen.. Not now. Not anymore-“_ Joker mutters to himself, only to be cut off from the storm that was about to be unleashed.

 

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he raises one finger up. Tilting his head as he watches the clown falter with that one sentence. “All those dashed hopes you’ve once had can finally come true. For you see, _I am Batman._ ” He gives a bow. Taunting the Joker with a truth the clown couldn’t possibly believe in the slightest.

 

“Leave the _jokes_ to me. Yours aren’t _funny_ in the least, _Bat-fake_.” Joker growls out. Voice rough and enraged.

 

“Thought, you said, and I’m _paraphrasing_ here. That you didn’t tell jokes anymore,” he states without missing a beat; sardonically. Straightening up again, he adds. “Or, am I mistaken? _Changed your mind so soon?_ About time.” he lets out a scoff at the end to add more insult to injury.

 

“Batsy’s been long _dead_. _Don’t pretend to be him!_ You’re not worthy of the title of Bat King.” Joker lunges forward then, swinging the crowbar. Messy in execution that the Batman Who Laughs easily evades the attack. Delivering a swiping kick to the Joker’s legs. Knocking him down to the ground as the clown lets out an audible oomph. Joker’s always been faster than Batman. _But, not this Batman._ When the Joker tries to get up, the Bat kicks him hard in the face. Blood instantaneously gushing from the clowns broken nose and split lip. Then Batman hears a sound he’s honestly truly missed for years now. The melody of Joker’s laughter. A sweet symphony that’s as pleasant as a lullaby for him. The clown rolls onto his back, but doesn’t get far, due for one his uncontrollable guffaws coming from him and the other from Batman’s boot coming down on his windpipe.

 

 

Batman would have fought the clown longer. In fact, he was craving it more than the oxygen he needed to breathe. Just to have that familiar dance once more would be the best thing ever in the world to him. A sort of intoxicating drug that he’d never want to quit. Regardless, he knew better. Wasn’t naive to what the outcome of a fight between them would be. He wouldn’t be able to hold back. Not anymore. And, quite frankly he wasn’t ready to end the first Joker that he’s seen since he’s killed his owns life just yet. Besides, in two weeks that death would be inevitable anyway. Might as well enjoy this as close to a reunion as he could get.

 

 _“Always so close, but never within reach. Something’s never change,”_ he speaks more to himself and the clown looks up at him as he adds more weight on the chalk white neck by leaning forward to capture the Joker’s attention. Although, he already had it all, he wanted to make sure, just in case. “Here’s the thing clown. _Yes, your Batman is dead._ Murdered, because of you,” he smiles when Joker’s laughter cuts off abruptly. “However, I am very worthy of that title you so lovingly gave him. _My own Joker even gave it to me on my world._ Before, I killed him,” the look of confusion on the madman’s face is so amusing for Batman that he can’t help, but chuckle in response. “Anyway, my point is, I’m not your _Batman_. In fact, I’m an even better _Batman_ than he ever was.”

 

 _“Doubt it.”_ Joker has to fight that statement, but it’s more half-hearted than anything else at this point. Batman can see the gears turning in the clown’s head. How much his comments are finally registering for the Joker to see the truth.

 

“Are you really so _delusional_ , that you can’t see that I’m the best parts of, _you and I_ , mixed _together_ in perfect _chaotic_ harmony?” He frowns slightly. Starting to lose interest in keeping the clown alive. Adding more pressure on the Joker’s neck. Ready to crush it. Be done with this increasingly less humorless world. Nostalgia only keeping him from doing just that.

 

Joker struggles to let out a mocking laugh. Sounding more broken than anything. His eyes narrowed into slits. Yet, he still smiles. Perhaps, more during their encounter than he has in years. “And, people used to say I’m insane, _HA!_ You’re Bat-shit crazy!” He points at the Batman Who Laughs. “ _Tut tut!_ Honestly, give me one good reason why I’d believe you.” Batman notices the knife sliding out of the Joker’s sleeve. Ready to rend his flesh while the clown tries to distract him with his other gesturing hand. An old trick. One that won’t work. But, not for the same old reasons. His smile mirrors the Joker’s own. Taking a step back, removing himself from pinning down the murderer and although the Joker doesn’t know it as of now, _Batman has already won this conversation._ This small battle between them.

 

“We both know, it’s a good thing you didn’t walk across the light to reach the other side,” a heartbeat passes. _“I would have shut it off when you were half way across.”_ He reaches out his hand for the clown to take.

 

_Any doubts the Joker may have had regarding this particular Batman vanish in a split second._

 

_Tiny pin-pricks in pools of acidic green expand for the first time in years._

 

_And, he gets up without taking the Batman Who Laughs hand._

 

_Knowing, despite everything, where they stood together hasn’t fully changed since that joke was told so long ago._

 

_Joker had no intention of falling between the buildings._

 

_The Batman Who Laughs had other ideas._

 

\- - -

 

“ _Wow,_ so you flayed Eddie alive on your world, _huh?_ ” Joker let’s out an awed-filled whistle. “All I did was cut him into _teeny tiny little_ pieces and turned him into a nice question mark painting.”

 

The Batman Who Laughs lets out a snicker at that comment that momentarily drowns out the sounds of pain-filled screams piercing the air as well as flesh being ripped apart from bone by his pets feasting on one of the few survivors who unfortunately came upon both maniac’s paths.  

 

“Not my most _creative_ moment, _I’ll admit,_ but I was simply _experimenting_ and he was the first one I came upon in Arkham,” The Bat responds with a shrug. Feeling the clown nuzzle against the leather on his shoulder. “I’ve had plenty of occasions to _rectify_ the lack of f _lare,_ of the early days and I’ve _taken_ the _opportunity_ each and every time.” he clarifies much to the Joker’s joy.

 

“You’ll have to tell me more about it.” He responds.

 

 _“Perhaps, in time, I will.”_ Batman says simply.

 

Joker gestures to the Robins having their fill on the now corpse of what used to be a man.

 

“I’ll hold you to it, Batsy. What about the kiddo’s over there? Who’s wonderful _idea_ made them? _Yours?_ Because, _gotta tell ya,_ as much as I might like this _version_ of you, this doesn’t feel like what a _Batman_ would do.” Joker’s tone is a tad mocking and grating slightly on Batman’s nerves. Not for the words, but the constant reminder that this would never be his own Joker, no matter how much a part of him pretends that it is.

 

He can still visibly see that day he took his Joker’s life. A line of families to be made from the best parts of himself and his own clown. A new Gotham that the Joker wanted to replace the old. And, yet, the Robins and himself were all that remained of their world. Because, even his Joker with all the foresight of knowing Batman needed to change and adapt, couldn’t predict that they were born in the instability of the dark instead of the light above.

 

_Funny, how fate worked out._

 

“I can’t take all the _credit_ for them. That one goes to _my_ Joker.” Is all he responds with. Joker noticeably stiffens against him. A painful reminder similar for the clown of how they both weren’t truly what the other has lost. Just mere copies in an endless abyss of nightmares.   

 

“ _Heh, Figures._ You’d never be that imaginative to come up with something as beautiful as them,” he laughs when he’s pushed roughly off of the other. Grinning up at the Bat, Joker adds. “What? _Ya, just don’t have my creative streak is all._ Almost makes me regret bashing one of those little precious birdy’s brains out, that other _me_ worked so hard at making. _Such a shame._ ” He shrugs. Not regretful in the least. Neither is Batman.

 

 _”I have more,”_ he replies and after a beat responds with, _“You’d be surprised on how creative I can be.”_ That was added more smug than the Joker’s liking. A green brow raises at the proclamation.

 

“Really got an ego boost _didn’t ya, Batsss,_ ” He sits up. Then his eyes widen as if he just processed what the other said previously. He looks around the destroyed area. Trying to spot something that he would never find. Turning back towards the laughing Bat, he questions. “And, _where_ might the other _adopted kids_ be hiding?”

 

Batman doesn’t respond for closing in on a minute. Not wanting to bring up too much information. At least not in full regards to the inevitable departure that he would need to have from this world and this Joker. He wasn’t in the mood for the shit show of a tantrum the clown would throw if he knew that tidbit of intel as of yet. _“Somewhere else.”_ Is what he chooses to reply instead.

 

 _“Cryptic as always,”_ Joker scoffs as he stands to his feet, moving closer to the sitting Bat on the hood of the car. “Would it kill ya, to open up a bit?”

 

A beat.

 

 _“Nope, but it’d kill you.”_ Batman remarks with a huge grin that the Joker follows with the same gesture. The clown straddles the Bat that will be the closest thing to ever being around his playmate again. His arms wrapping around the more effective murderer’s neck.

 

 _“Daarling,_ don’t be silly,” Joker steals a kiss, only to let out a laugh shortly after. Batman’s grip tightened around his back. Holding the clown upright, letting out a small chuckle of his own. “We both know that, _I’ll always eagerly walk off stage for you._ Just let me have my curtain call when the time comes, _sweetheart_ ,” another stolen kiss. _“Then all will be as right as rain for me.”_ The smile Batman receives is demented and loving at the same time.

 

_Batman does his best to ignore the long since faded ache in his heart’s return, by doing what he does best now and laughs it all away._

 

_It’s almost enough to do the trick._


	2. Chapter 2

“ _Whoopsie!_ Missed again! _Boy, oh, boy,_ I really must be out of practice! Whatever, shall I do? _Welp,_ ya know what they say _ol’fella_ practice makes perfect! _Let’s go again!_ ” The Joker guffaws can be heard all around the desolate area. The clown was having the time of his life and the Batman Who Laughs was content to watch the over-dramatic nature of the clown.

 

It was closing in towards sunset since the clown and the Bat made their introduction and it seemed like fate had decided to gift them with not finding just one survivor in this wretched world, but four. Must have been because the balance was finally restored by their reunion. Or, as close to one that the two of them could ever achieve. Either way, Batman didn’t have much complaints, other than the Joker just didn’t go far enough in his creative games. But, at the end of the day, he couldn’t fully hold the clown accountable for that flaw. Joker would never be able to imagine the types of fun that Batman could.

 

Out of those four survivors they came across only one was left. And, his pets were having so much of a fill with their meal that the Bat was a tad concerned they might overeat and get lazy. He’d have to be a little stricter next time on their dietary habits, but the clown’s enthusiasm was keeping those thoughts at bay for the time being. So, there he was. Leaning against a wall as the wheel spun onwards. The man who had to see his wife and daughter gunned down about a half an hour earlier was simply left as a toy for the murderer’s amusement.  

 

 _Spin, spin, spin_ the wheel did and each time the Joker got a little bit closer in his aim with the clown’s own infamous contraption of toxin dipped darts. The man was strapped onto the moving mechanism, by nails and barbed wire. Bleeding profusely from wounds that all three individuals knew would be a more merciful death than if just one of those darts hit their mark. For Joker toxin was a slow agonizing death and would be the outcome of this little game. Blood-loss would just be too boring of a way for the man to die. Both maniacs knew that much. All the Joker was doing now was for show and to take a bit of enjoyment to close his day.

 

Another miss and the man breathed what little relief he could given the circumstances. It would be short lived, but that’s what made everything even more hilarious. Any hope their victim might have only fuels the game to take an even more deranged path. One both murderers would take full delight in. _Never once hesitating to make others suffer_. A skill set that both men had in spades. Both their worlds being living proof of that fact. Well, at least in memory given the Bat’s earth was already faded out of existence and Joker’s would soon follow that same fate. The point still stands though, and that was good enough for the Bat. And, perhaps even the Joker would agree with him there.

 

Unlike his fellow Dark Knights, the thought comes out of the blue and the Bat has to bite down a laugh that would distract the clown. Each other dark Batman he recruited wanted the chance to save their worlds, or to be given back what they lost. It would never be achievable of course. Even once they brought the light above into the abyss. But, it kept the others obedient. _A false hope that gave them purpose._ It was hilarious how single minded they were. How desperate for the unobtainable. _While the Batman Who Laughs was in it for the fun._ To play as many games as he could. To reach heights that he never could have imagined back on his world. The other Dark Knights would honestly be better off if they followed his example. An example that could only be ever truly appreciated by the like-mindedness of the Joker. A resentful part of him hates the fact that only himself in the long run would be able to enjoy all those wonderful games to be played. In two weeks time he’d be gone from here and back towards his purpose in life. All darkening thoughts are quickly vanished from his mind when the Joker catches his attention again.

 

Joker stomped his foot in feigned exasperation. However, the effect he was going for was ruined by the shit-eating grin on his chalk white face. A performance that was severely lacking for who the Joker was acting for. He’d give him an _A_ for effort though if the clown asked. Able to appreciate the attempts. _Although, he knew the Joker wouldn’t._ It was the thought that counted in the end.

 

 _“Darn it,”_ Joker mutters to himself. “Perhaps, I need to try a different way of throwing these things?” He stood in silent contemplation. _Letting the tension build for the victim_. Finally, he snapped his fingers as if a light bulb went on in his head and exclaims. “ _Ah! Ha!_ I know! I’ll try with my eyes closed! Can’t be any _harder_ than what I’ve been doing! Right, Bats?” He glances towards the Dark Knight. And, Batman sees the mischievous gleam in the clown’s green orbs.

 

 _“Knock yourself out,”_ He replies with a smirk. Getting more amused in the clown’s antics and willing to play along. Besides, he could see the appeal in the twisted game. Enjoy, the victims fear of their impending death. No matter how long it took to reach that inevitable conclusion. He also could admit with himself that he took pleasure in seeing the Joker happy. It felt like a reminder of the old days and washed away any negative emotions he felt hidden under the surface that was ticking away with a desire to consume him. This little game felt right. Natural. A break away from his bigger goals, like he was on a vacation.

 

Joker snickers at the comment. _“I don’t need to, when I have you to do that for me.”_ He speaks in tone more geared towards a lover and that gets a laugh out of the Batman.

 

 _“You’d enjoy it to much.”_ He responds. Because, he knows the Joker would. His clown has always been a masochist as much he was sadistic and Batman held a conviction that this Joker would be no different. He glances towards the skyline. Looking past it and the setting sun. The dusk of the horizon. As different as the worlds in the dark could be, they all spawned from the light above. All Jokers and Batmans couldn’t be far off from their original counterparts whose nightmares created them.   _At least, not fully anyway._ Hidden blue orbs glance back down when the clown speaks again.

 

 _“See, friend,”_ he gestures towards the man made toy, _“Bats, knows me so well,”_ his head snaps back towards Batman. _“That’s exactly the point!”_ He leans back and forth on his feet. Giddy and excited, but the comment stirs another feeling entirely in the Batman. One that is unpleasant.

 

“What _point_ are you trying to make?” Batman questions which the Joker ignores momentarily to get into position to throw another dart. The Robins sense instantly the Bat’s souring mood. Their crow calls ceasing and even the prospect of more of a meal to consume doesn’t garner their attention any longer. The children’s heads lowered, but stayed attentive as they suspect an order to be given. Batman disregards them completely. Never letting the clown out of his sight. Joker is blissfully living in ignorance. A trait that was known to get the maniac’s counterparts killed on other earths.

 

Joker places a hand over his eyes. Ruby smile split wide into a huge grin as he mimic’s throwing the dart, but never letting go. Unawares that Batman now has a couple batarangs in his hand and will ruin the Joker’s fun. Finally, the clown addresses the Bat, but not looking at him. “The point, my _Edgy Bat King of BDSM_ , is that the only _plausible_ reason you would even be here is for my enjoyment. _My entertainment._ To play my games, _again and again_ until the end of time. What other _reason_ could there be?” He chuckles shaking his head. Perfectly amused in the delusions he’s crafted for himself.

 

Batman would have found the nickname towards him downright hilarious, but right now it barely registers in his mind. It wasn’t astounding that the Joker would come to such a blatantly wrong conclusion of exactly why the Batman Who Laughs came to this world in the first place. The clown on his earth always did view himself as the center of the universe. How only Batman and Joker existed and no one else. _A delusion that he didn’t share whatsoever_. They both may have shared similar philosophies on how to conduct their lives, but he wouldn’t be naive to that line of thinking. Besides, the implications the clown asserted as factual really didn’t sit well with him. _And, needed to be corrected._ His smile returns at the thought. Knowing full-well how entertaining it will be to put the Joker in his place.

 

_He was a creation of the dark from the biggest fear of the lights Batman._

 

_This Joker might have been the same for the lights Joker._

 

_But, a Joker card’s value in a deck didn’t really have any value at all by itself._

 

_Any false notions otherwise._

 

_Well, were only slightly funny._

 

The maniac readied himself to take aim with his dart to continue the sadistic game, only spreading his fingers at the last possible second to see. All too eager to draw out the torment as long as possible. The dart hits right next to the man’s head. Although, when the madman was going to quip on another miss, that’s when two batarangs flew through the air aimed at the wheel. The victim lets out a scream and the Joker lets out a surprised gasp. For the batarangs made their mark. Slicing off the fingers on one hand of the man’s . _All except one._ The middle finger remains in a grotesque imagery of flipping off the bird towards the lunatic. Joker stands there in disarray at what just transpired. Resonating sound of footsteps coming closer behind him and slowly the Joker turns his head towards the bigger form of the Bat.

 

 _“What. Was. That?”_ Joker pronounces each word in calculating emphasis. Making his displeasure perfectly clear. Even if it went unbothered by the man it was directed towards.

 

 _“Hmm?_ Problem?” The Bat replies and his smirk becomes infuriating to the Joker. The clown turning on his heel while he points a finger at the more dangerous of the two. Robins notice the aggression and start to crow and pull at their chains, but one quick glance from Batman cuts it off abruptly.

 

“Don’t play the role of a smart ass, Bat,” Joker grumbles out. His irritation palpable, regardless uncared for. “When did you get so antsy all of a sudden? _Ugh._ This won't do. Won’t do at all!” His tone is biting. And, the lack of any effect on its target does nothing to quench the growing irate tirade. A whimper behind them, only making the tension in the air worst. Joker dispatches it more effectively than anywhere he was getting with Batman, by throwing a dart behind him. Straight into the man’s neck.

 

Silence follows as both the Bat and the Joker stare each other down. Even the agonizingly filled laughter in the background gaining volume and intensity doesn’t dissipate the hostility suffocating the air around them. Neither even casting a glance at another poor soul losing their life in the dark of the multiverse. Both having a small battle of wills, that Batman knows he will win regardless of who speaks up first. It doesn’t matter how angry the clown could get, he didn’t have the winning hand. No real way to outmatch the Bat. Even, if the clown fails to realize this, it doesn’t change a single thing. Finally, once all is silent again, does Batman bother to respond to the Joker.

 

“You ruined your game.” He states as if talking about the weather and not the fact someone was just tortured for an extended period of time to their death.

 

“My game?” Joker sounds flabbergasted. _“But, you’re the one-“_ he cuts himself off. Green eyes widening into saucers and then he relaxes. All violent nature of a murderer leaving his body for the time being. Seemingly assured that he put the pieces together of why the Bat Who Laughs was acting the way he was. Though, he was inaccurate in his logic. His purple gloved hand reaches upwards and strokes the Bat’s cheek. An, action that would have left the clown with two broken arms by his world’s Batman, and most likely others as well. Not this time. Because, unbeknownst to the clown, Batman doesn’t need to break him psychically to get his point across. He takes a deep breath, smiles lovingly and comments. “Were you _jealous_ , Batsy? Is that what this is about? Worried that I wasn’t paying enough attention to you? Did ya want to play as well? _I understand._ But, _don’tcha_ fret. I only have eyes for you. _Hehe_.”

 

A thread snaps for the Bat and laughter fills the space between them. One that’s mockingly cruel and the Joker instantly withdraws his hand from the other. Taking a step back with a grimace on his countenance and a unexplainable _ache_ in the madman’s heart. For, Batman it was just so absurd the lengths the Joker could go to, to make everything about himself. How, even in a world without his nemeses the Joker could still process how truly unrealistic his viewpoints were on Batmans in general as a fact. A joke in its own right. Because, in countless worlds he’s traversed not once has he met a Batman that was ever remotely jealous if their Joker didn’t pay attention to them. Jokers just couldn’t do that. It was an impossibility for them. Batmans were their one true weakness, not the other way around. Where a Joker would be enraged with a lack of attention, a Bat would just go upon their day if the same was applied towards them. A reminder that when the time came for when the Dark Knights finally breached the light above the Joker that spawned the creation of this one clown in front of him would be nothing once they dealt with the Bat of light. A wonderful beautiful joke, that the clown could never partake in of the funny side.

 

He places his hands on the clown’s shoulders, startling the manic at the contact. He pulls the clown closer to his chest as his laughing fit starts to die down. Embracing him in a feigned affection. One hand resting on the clown’s back while the other cradles the back of Joker’s head. He holds back on more chortles that want to escape him. Even if it’s more amusing how visibly relaxed the Joker’s nerves become by the action. One more snicker leaves his lips and then he’s ready to shatter the clown’s whole world view. And, he’ll take every pleasure that it offers him, because even then the clown would not want to ever be apart from a Batman.

 

“If anyone’s jealous it’s you,” he whispers as his fingers stroke the soft green hair and the Joker lays his head against the leather attire of the Bat’s chest. _“Always, jealous because of a Batman.”_

 

 _“What?”_ The clown sounds more in a daze by their close proximity. Batman doesn’t remark on it. Way to amused where this conversation is going.

 

“You got _upset_ because I _ruined_ your game, but do you _know_ why I did?” Joker doesn’t answer, to caught up in the moment, which is fine for Batman. He’ll explain it anyway, “It’s simple really to understand. I need you to finally realize how _delusional_ you truly are, if you want things to work _between_ us.” He ignores the snicker from the lithe form he has pressed against him.

 

“Hello, kettle calling the pot black there, Bats. _Me?_ Delusional? _HA!_ I think, it’s the other way around. _It’s always been the other way around._ ” Joker mutters becoming more unsure with each passing word. Obviously wanting this topic of conversation to end. But, not ready to disengage because of the affection he so desperately craves. It keeps him captivated against his will. A plaything for a crueler Batman than his world could have ever had. It also occurred to the clown that he never really heard his Batman talk so much, always so brooding, which made this change of pace intoxicating in every toxic aspect it possessed.

 

“Different Batman, you’re talking about there,” Batman says softly. “Any _misplaced_ delusions I may have had, died years ago. _With just one snap of a broken neck. Heh._ But, we’re getting off topic. _Thing, is Joker._ You falsely _claimed_ I came here to be your _entertainment_ without once _considering_ that it might be the other way around.”

 

“Same difference, doesn’t matter how you look at it,” Joker fires back quickly. More trying to convince himself, although failing miserably. His arms grip onto the Bat’s back. Perhaps, in a desperate attempt to prove to himself that everything he thought was accurate. Or, in a poor attempt to keep the Bat close to himself and not be left alone in the world again.

 

”Trust me, it _matters._ Even your _little games_ fall flat.” Batman remarks and that's when Joker pulls back from him to look at him. The ever prominent frown replacing the usual smile even more entertaining for the sadistic nature of this particular Batman.

 

“Like you _could_ do better.” Joker growls out. Feeling insulted. Daring him to prove him wrong, because the clown truly believes that’s not possible. Not after all the havoc and destruction he’s caused to his own world. And, yet it could never compare to a fraction of what Batman has done to his own world, or the others he’s played in. How any superiority the Joker might feel in this world would be taken down a peg or two.

 

Batman doesn’t hesitate with taking the bait one bit. His smile more unhinged. Deeper madness coming to the surface. “Don’t you get it, Joker? _Comparing the two of us,_ is like comparing _sour apples_ to _poisoned oranges_. One will be bitter to swallow, while the other will kill you. _Want to guess who is which here?_ ” Silence passes, feeling longer than it truly was. The clown re-positioning himself back to laying his head against the Bat’s chest. The closest to a sign of defeat that the maniac could ever give. Grasping onto a false sense of security from the one person that is the worst to receive it from. The Bat lets him do just that. Fully aware it will only make everything he says that more impact-full. Joker opens his mouth to respond, but Batman cuts him off.

 

“You shot that poor bloke’s wife and kid way to early. Put him on your little toy to play a game. _Creative, but not far enough_. Wanna know what I would have done?” Batman fingers push under the Joker’s chin. Lifting the clown’s head up to look at him. Indicating his meaning. Wanting an answer. Refusing to continue until he gets what he desires and the clown is to entranced by the Bat to ever not oblige him with anything. At least not when the Joker’s heart was still broken after losing his own Batman. A weakness that is so easily exploitable, its pathetic, but fun regardless and would be used any time the Batman saw fit. Just another game for him to play with a dance partner that the Bat has missed having around since his transformation.

 

“What would you have done differently?” He questions and the Batman gives him as much as a approving smile for the clown playing along as he could. An idea pops into his head to portray that message more clearly. He places a mocking kiss on the Joker’s forehead. Taking a short moment to be amused by the shudder that wracks the other’s body, Before continuing on with his explanation.

 

“I’d tell him that he could only have _saved_ one. Been honest that he would have _died_ from the start, but could do one last good _deed_ for his family,” a cruel chuckle bubbles forth from the worst madman of the two. “Give him _hope_. Have him throw the darts, but, here would be the _kicker,_ the darts wouldn’t have been poisoned. That would have been to _kind_ an outcome, _you see,_ ” a terse pause as if he expects the clown to agree with him. Silence is his answer, but that doesn’t stop him in the least. _“No._ Instead, the one he chose to sacrifice would be the one to _survive_ that little game. _Knowing who the dear old man loved more._ And, finally the _piece de resistance_ , use that lovely toxin of yours, _or more accurately, the one my Joker created_ , on the non-favorite. Let his _hopes_ be crushed. _See,_ him _break and crumble_ as his _non-favored_ loved one _tears_ him apart. The _best_ part is that is only _one_ game out of _hundreds_ I could have done,” he pushes the Joker off of him then and relishes in the lack of amusement the clown is experiencing right now even if it was a conversation he’d normally love partaking in. But, this time the true reality of their differences is finally shining through. _“_ That’s what makes us _different_ , Joker. As _imaginative_ as you are, you’ll always just be a _sour apple_.”

 

_Batman whistles for his pets and they follow his command as the Joker is just left standing there in silence._

 

_He knows the clown will follow him eventually._

 

_That Joker wouldn’t be able to do otherwise._

 

_Regardless, of what strain he’s placed on the clown’s mental state in that moment._

 

_So, with a merry tune on his lips he struts away; Robins at his heels._

 

_While the Joker is left behind. Needing to reevaluate all that he once understood of the world and what Batmans were truly capable of when created from the dark._


	3. Chapter 3

As it turned out the Joker didn’t eventually follow the Batman Who Laughs after he had made it abundantly clear of their differences. At least not in any obvious sort of way. Because, Batman had no doubt in his mind that Joker knew exactly where the former vigilante turned villain was right now and just refused to be spotted. It wasn’t concerning. Not really. In reality, he was just a tiny tinge impressed by the clown’s restraint to be away from him. It wasn’t a common trait with the clowns. Although, it was overshadowed by the knowledge that the only reason the other maniac would be acting this way was out of sheer petty nature. He’d bet all of another Bruce Wayne’s fortunate on that being the case. Batman would have bet his own, _but, well,_ he didn’t have it anymore or a need for riches at all. Still, it didn’t change what he’d bet on that assumption. However, it didn’t matter now. Amusing, but pointless to dwell on. Right now anyway. For the Batman was honestly downright exhausted.

 

Sleep rarely came upon him anymore. Not saying he ever had a healthy sleep schedule to begin with, but it had only gotten worse in the past several years. Especially, ever since he became in service to _Barbatos_ and traveled the worlds in the dark. If his duties weren’t as fun as they were, he might have complained that it was all work and no play for him these days. And, regardless of his adapted and changed nature, he was still human, meaning needing to sleep once in awhile was unavoidable.

 

As a Batman he probably wouldn’t have thought it was _wise_ to become _vulnerable_ with a Joker running free and not in sight. But, any concerns of doing just that didn’t even register anymore. If the clown wanted to attempt to murder him in his slumber then he’d welcome the challenge a game like that would pose for the maniac. So, that’s where he was now. Resting against a wall. His pets already fast asleep against each other in a _mockery of cuddles_. When the reality was each child would tear each other apart if he wasn’t around to keep them in check. His hidden eyes closed, breathing slowing down and it didn’t take him long to fall into the sweet embrace that sleep would offer his tired body.

 

 The familiar cell of _0801_ in Arkham Asylum welcomes the Bat like an old friend. And, although the walls of the rundown asylum have a blurry monochrome tint to them, Batman doesn’t question it. He knows why he is here. Who he is meant to see. And, the cell door opens up on its own as if it was an invitation for him to proceed in his endeavor. Not hesitating, he enters, the door slamming shut behind him and a familiar smile to greet him. His Joker sits on the white cot. Orange Arkham jumpsuit attire in place. However, his neck hangs limply at his side. Broken. A reminder of what Batman has done the night his rebirth was put in effect. Joker holds Bruce the brown teddy bear in his lap, while his other hand does its best to keep his crooked neck up right.

 

“Brucie, so _wonderful_ of you to pay me a visit!” He exclaims with a chipper nature that shouldn’t be afforded to him in his condition. _“My, aren’t you looking swell,”_ Joker chuckles, though the tone is distorted and sounds more like static than anything else. “I like the new look. _Really makes it hard to tell us apart anymore,”_ a pause and Joker’s head snaps to the other side. A sickening crack echoing in the small confined cell. “Other than the _brooding_ lack of color. But, _hey,_ at least you’re trying. _Gotta look on the positives, isn’t that right?_ ” His last comment is mockingly cruel.

 

 _“Hello, old friend,”_ He greets him with civility, ignoring the tightening in his chest. Batman wants to believe what he is seeing is real, but something scratches at the back of his mind that it’s not. The Joker’s last remark playing like a repeating recording in his ears.

 

Positives in this aspect was hard to come by for Batman. Although, he didn’t have much to resent in his life, there was only one thing that he did. And, that all boiled down to the fact his Joker was gone. That in order to become what he was now the clown wasn’t around to see it. _Not truly. Not anymore_. All because, he added just a little too much force to make all the havoc the manic brought upon him and his city to finally stop. A decision that changed everything for him, but was the joke his world had to be told.

 

_The joke too far._

 

_It has to exist, Bruce. I know it does._

 

_Well, tonight I’m going to tell it._

 

_I’ll shout it from the damn rooftops!_

 

_Can you hear me, Batman? Can you?_

 

_And, here we go._

 

_Never! I’ll never stop!_

 

_You still don’t have the guts, Bruce. Do you?_

 

_It’s going to be you and me together forev-_

 

The clown never finished that one sentence, because in the end Batman made sure it would have never came true. A moment in time that he can never take back. All because the light above made it a destined reality for the dark below. It was just an impossible outcome. Both him and Joker could have never stayed together to play their games until the end of time. Even if they both have wanted just that. He doesn’t want to think about it. Doesn’t want to be reminded of all the Joker has truly missed out on. It just wasn’t right. Was wrong in every aspect to him. A painful fact of life for him. Things could have been so different for them if only they had a chance from the start.

 

A soft sigh escapes those ruby lips. The clown shaking his head in pity. All unnatural movements due to the broken neck. “ _Really, Bats._ I thought you were over this already? _Beyond it._ Don’t start having regrets now. That will do nothing good for that pale complexion of yours. _Hehe!_ ”

 

_The Joker is right in some ways._

 

_Batman shouldn’t dwell on it._

 

_Should embrace his reality as it was._

 

_Enjoy it._

 

_And, in so many ways he truly did._

 

_But..._

 

Batman gives a faux smile, and says in a whisper, “Having _small_ regrets, just _makes_ for a better _punchline_ to the _joke_ of _our_ lives. Tragedy is always comedy gold,” and the sound of Joker’s laughter just makes him feel a little bit better for what he’s done. He could kill the entire dark and light above _-in fact had a contingency plan to do just that-_ and not even bat an eye, but the real tragedy was the only regret he would ever have is losing his Joker.

 

_The true cosmic joke for a Batman to ever experience._

 

_It went against their very nature._

 

_Always at odds against the Joker._

 

_Battling on and on in a much needed balance for the multiverse._

 

_A Batman missing the clown just wouldn’t have made much sense in the grand scheme of things._

 

_This only made it all the more hilarious with Batman’s entire existence._

 

_The reason why where no one is laughing at the state of their lives in the dark, except for the Batman._

 

“Right you are there, _Batty-Boy_!” Joker stretches his long legs out. Getting more comfortable on the cot. “Have any regrets you want. Just don’t start going all _gloom and doom_ , like you used too.” His tone turns dangerous at the end and finally Batman gives a genuine smile.

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He states. Because, he just doesn’t see that side of him anymore. If he can’t laugh off his problems then he can’t always win. It would only hinder him. Make him as weak as he used to be before the Joker changed his life for the better. And, that just wouldn’t be acceptable to his now only rule that functioned for his entire life.

 

_Batman always wins. No matter what._

 

Joker clicks his tongue in slight disapproval. “ _Tsk, tsk._ Well, that’s not entirely true, now is it? _You’re doing just that right now,”_ He stares off into the distance for a long moment then and Batman takes a step forward. And, another and yet, it’s like he’s not moving closer at all. No matter how much he wants to, the Joker stays out of reach. Ignoring him and the little bit of resolve he got back starts to crumble bit by bit. Poisoning his mind like never before. Sucking out the mirth from his body. Reducing him closer to who he once was. All because the Joker was right and didn’t even have the decency to laugh about it.

 

 _“Joker,”_ he almost shouts out, but keeps it contained and calm. Just wanting the clown’s attention back on him. Funny, given he’s never had to work for that before. Green eyes glance to land back on him. Softer this time. Sadness shining through with poisonous intensity. Making a lump form in the Bat’s throat. Realizing, he might not like what the Joker has to say now and only being proven correct in a way he just couldn’t have imagined.

 

“When’s the last time you’ve even _dreamt about me,_ anyway? _Hmm?_ ” Joker questions. Tone just enough to be viewed as accusatory. His stare hardening. Darkening the entire mood in the room.

 

Batman’s body goes stock still then. As if he’s just been shot. Any desire to be closer to the Joker evaporating and being replaced with the need to retreat. It’s not fear, or anything close to it, but something much worse. An emotion he hasn’t felt in so long, it’s like he’s been burned alive. Regrets were one thing. Easy to laugh off, because they held no true bearing on his mind. Just a fact of life that he couldn’t bring the Joker back. But, this was remorse. Something, he thought wasn’t even plausible for him anymore. It shouldn’t be. However, it was happening. He never forget the Joker, but in ways the clown’s absence didn’t impact him much afterwards. Well, not counting his changed mindset, but that was different. Beside the point. Batman had just been having his new world view of entertainment and the Joker was left to the back of his mind. When really, the clown should have been a more prominent thought on the daily. It wasn’t hard for that to be the case in the past, but somewhere along the path that very thing changed for Batman.

 

“I don’t remember.” He answers, much to his dismay. Voice distant and colder than usual. Trying to slow down his running mind. Luckily, for him Joker provides just enough of a distraction for that much needed thing to be possible.

 

“I think it was _only_ for the first _week_ after you _killed_ me, but then those dreams _faded away_ just as _rapidly_ as your _sanity,_ ” his desolate mood, does a complete turnaround then that it could have gave them both whiplash. “You’re _welcome_ for that, by the way. All because you’ve been having the time of your life, _doesn’t mean you should lose your manners, Bruce._ ” He chides him in a poor impersonation of Alfred’s voice that wasn’t that close to accurate in the least.

 

An old familiar anger bubble’s to the surface when having to deal with his own clown and Batman lets it consume him as a life-line. An anchor to keep him afloat when he needs it most. It’s stabilizing. Keeping him in check of himself. Easier to handle than what he was feeling previously. Welcomed. Pleasant. And, just right for any Batman to feel. In any normal situation he’d find all this hilarious. Regardless, he doesn’t now. Maybe, just a little bit. Just somewhat. Point is, it’s enough for him.

 

“You act as if you had a _choice_ there,” Green orbs narrow in irritation towards him, and Batman feels more like himself again with having the upper hand. “Everything that _happened_ between us, was just a _story_ that should have _never_ been told.  The ever prevalent _joke_ of _living_ in the dark,” he points up towards the ceiling, but his meaning goes beyond that. _“instead of the light.”_ He finishes. Feeling, as if, like always, he’s won. However, like always, the Joker disagrees.

 

“ _No. No. No!_ Don’t you dare sell us so short! _Our union short!_ ” Joker snaps out. Venom coating every word. “The light, the dark, it doesn’t matter! _None of it matters_ , except for me and you. It’s always been that way. _Always will be._ ”

 

“We were just mere _copies_ acting on a stage,” Batman remarks the cold hard truth. A fact that doesn’t really bother him. Not really. “Putting on a show. A _marvelous_ show, but one still the same.” And, what a game changer of a show it was. Where the other worlds in the dark got to be privy too and soon the light above will be as well. All worth it in the end, regardless of what they truly were.

 

“ _Tosh!_ We were better than that!” Joker bites back instantly. His body jerking forwards so suddenly and the resonating sound of his neck crunching penetrating the air. This only went ignored by what happened next.

 

The sudden action of the teddy bear being thrown at his chest catches him a bit off guard. He glances down when it bounced off him. Landing on the floor, by his boots. Batman just looks. Blinking slowly behind his spiked headpiece. Staring at the stuffed bear, in silence for a good couple of seconds. Just processing what happened. And, then, all the tension just snaps like a thread. Dissipating in the Joker’s childish actions. He looks back up, a wide grin on his face and is even more amused by the sulking look the Joker is giving him.  

 

 _“Gah! Bruce. You’re just not getting it. Are you?”_ Joker huffs out. Arms crossing on his chest as he shakes his head in complete exasperation. Any force then that was keeping Batman away from the Joker vanishes and he finds himself moving forward. Taking a seat on the cot, in front of the clown. Legs in a Indian sitting position. Hands resting on his knees and he just smiles at the Joker, letting the kaleidoscope of tense emotions fade away in the clown. Green orbs lock on him and Batman’s grin stretches even more.

 

 “How _quaint,_ that you _care_ so much what I think.” Batman snickers and Joker’s frown turns upside down into a loving smile.

 

“Well, _I am,_ the one stuck inside your head. I _n this little dream of yours._ I kinda have too,” Joker replies and then lets out a chuckle of his own. “But, I always did care for you... _When I was alive, that is._ _Ya know_ , that _better_ than _anyone_.” His tone is just a tad sardonic. Batman lets it slide and they fall into a comfortable silence together. Just taking it all in even if none of this was real. It’s nice for awhile. But, silences couldn’t last for long with the clown around. Joker places a hand over the Bats. His eyes glaringly bright.

 

“Just so we’re clear. I’m really _happy_ to see what you’ve become.” Joker exclaims and it means more than Batman could ever imagine it could.

 

He always wondered what his own Joker would have thought about that sheer destruction he caused on their own world. For, the maniac in front of him had always just reserved his chaos in the confines of Gotham City. Always, just for Batman to play his games. It was small minded, and he took it farther than the Joker ever would have dared. Left nothing, but himself, his favored son, and pets to see the aftermath. Although, they enjoyed it all, regardless, he had wanted the Joker to be able to experience in the fun as well. It didn’t change anything and he knew that could have never happened. Because, the Joker’s death was the catalyst to all the entertainment Batman was able to partake in. Without it, they would have simply stayed on opposite sides until their deaths.  

 

“What can I say?” He laughs and it feels good. Pushing back every negative emotion he’s been dealt with in his life. “I’m your mirror image. _All of that you left behind._ Admittedly, _better_ though.” The clown grips his hand tighter in that moment. And, Batman tilts his head at the action. The look he receives is one he hasn’t seen on his Joker before. Truly, _unreadable,_ even for him. And, Batman is captivated in it. Drawn to it like a moth to the flame that would only be burned in the process. He doesn’t care. _Let himself burn._ As long as he burned away with the Joker right beside him.

 

”I know, you are. That’s why I’m _concerned_ about just one little thing,” Joker says and the Bat is left in a state of confusion. He nods his head to prompt the clown to continue. Gesturing with his hand as well when the clown doesn’t oblige at first. The clown sighs deeply at that. “Since we’re one in the _same_ , we _unfortunately_ make the same _mistakes_. But, _my love_. Don’t make the same mistakes, _I did._ You’re _worth_ so much _more_ than that. It’s why I went to all that _effort_ to tell the _best joke ever_. I just don’t _want_ you to have _all I’ve done for us_ go to waste. Wouldn’t be _funny_ at all, if you did,” an abrupt pause followed by a small laugh. _“Okay, I lied. It might be a little funny. In a bad way, of course.”_ He shrugs and his smile returns tenfold.

 

 _“Mistakes?”_ He asks immediately, needing more clarification at what exactly his long dead nemesis is trying to get at.

 

“Bruce, you _know_ what I’m _talking_ about. This little _detour_ of yours, isn’t going to _end_ the way, you _think_ it is.” Joker responds and Batman can tell that’s all he’s going to get out the madman.

 

A sound in the distance catches both of their attention and the room they’re in starts to dissolve all around them. Batman doesn’t want to go. He’d rather stay here. Knowing that he might never see his Joker again. Most likely wouldn’t even dream of him in a long time, if ever would. It was even plausible that once he’s awaken he wouldn’t remember any of this, as it could fade away into nothingness, just like their own corrupted world did so long ago. His own hand grips the Joker‘s own, but the clown pulls his hand out of his grasp. Batman looks at the clown who is now more translucent than anything else right now.

 

_But, Joker does leave him with parting words that Batman won’t forget._

 

 _“Just, remember. I may, not be around anymore, my pointy eared nincompoop, but you still are! Which means our so called story isn’t finished yet.”_ Familiar laughter rings in his ears as the clown disappears from his life once more.

 

Batman awakes with a jolt to his system. Eyes snapping open. His breathing heavy. It takes him close to a minute to process that it’s still dark outside. That the morning sun, was still at most a couple hours away from appearing. He can feel something pulling against his arm. And, slowly he registers hearing the excited frantic crows of his pets, trying to get his attention. Batman glances to his side, seeing what he felt was pulling his arm was only one of his Robins. The child’s grin is split wide open, blood on his teeth and once he acknowledges that his master is awake, he crows even louder. Tugs harder. A headache starts to come forth for the Batman as the fog of sleep fully leaves him. He doesn’t hesitate to grab the child’s throat in an iron tight grip. His pet’s eyes widen, only to let out a choked giggle not even a second later. Batman tosses the child away from his body roughly. Watches as he falls on the floor, rolls back to his knees and the child crows once more. Another Robin catches what’s going on and tackles the other. A fight breaking out between them that Batman doesn’t even care if one will kill the other. He turns his attention to his remaining pets crowing for him. Some point towards the sky and the others are bouncing on their feet. It’s as close to excited havoc the children will cause when he’s just awaken from his slumber.

 

 _“Bar.”_ He groggily grumbles out. Each Robin stopping in their tracks as their heads snap towards the laughing Bat. Even the two fighting stop the second the word leaves his mouth. They all are eager for something still unknown to him, that much he can decipher. It can wait a moment. His limbs stretch out and he feels the calming cracks of his bones finally being free from their stilled position for the past several hours. He allows himself a few minutes to just relax. To take in his surroundings. But, nothing seems out of the ordinary to cause such a reaction from his pets. Which only leaves him in momentary puzzlement. It doesn’t stay that way. At long last, Batman finally sees what his pets were so excited about. Looking up into the sky a familiar light shines brightly.

 

_All pretense of remembering his dream vanish with the sight. A huge grin winding his features. Batman jumps to his feet. Staring at the light in the sky and all it means._

 

_For the Bat-signal has been turned on._

 

_Calling to him like in the old days before his metamorphosis._

 

_And, Batman knows who exactly is responsible for this beacon to garner his upmost attention._

 

_The adrenaline starting to sour through his veins._

 

_An, old excitement he hasn’t felt in a long time._

 

_The Joker was out there._

 

_Asking Batman to come out and play._

 

_In the end, there was just no way that the laughing Bat would deny the Clown Prince, just what he was asking for._

 

_Although, the routine would surely end differently than both their shared histories in this new game of theirs._

 


	4. Chapter 4

The Joker of this world has apparently been a very busy little clown while the Batman Who Laughs was taking a several hours rest, he observed to himself. Batman stood on the roof of the rundown GCPD building. Overlooking the Bat-signal that’s light called him here. Three of his Robins were balancing on the rail behind him. Crowing to themselves as they waited for permission to feast on the rotten corpse that was left for Batman to find.

 

“You’ve all ate more than you should have lately,” He doesn’t glance at his pets as he says this. _“You kiddos can wait,”_ The three children whine at him, but don’t dare disobey his orders. “Besides, we don’t want to ruin the clown’s artwork, that he went to all this trouble just for _little ol’ me._ _Hehe_ _._ ” His pets giggle at those words. Their disappointment at a loss meal quickly fading into amusement. Almost as sadistic as their owner. Batman grins widely, letting out a laugh of his own. Because, honestly this game the clown set up would have some entertaining results.

 

The smell of death lingering in the air from the corpse laying against the Bat-signal doesn’t bother him in the least. In fact it intrigues him with how much detail the clown put into this idea of his. How the maniac was going for a perfect attention to detail aesthetic to make this charade as real as possible. More like a remembrance, or a loving tribute of days long gone. The corpse had James Gordon’s usual known attire down exceptionally accurate. Even had an unlit cigarette -that the former commissioner had a tendency to chain smoke while alive- left in the rotting mouth for added effect. It made him even question if the Joker actually dug Gordon’s body up, just to complete the look. Upon further inspection, he was even more amused to be proven accurate in that assumption by the dirt that still clings to the old clothes. The clown was truly trying to out-due his previous games here, all right. Not even his own Joker ever went exactly this far. It was quite touching in a morbid hallmark card kind of way.  

 

Batman crouches down, looking at the letter stuck in the rotten hand, gently as to not rip the paper he pulls it out of the grip. Open’s it and gets even more excited at the lengths the Joker is going to, just to play like the old days with each passing word. A Robin lands behind him. Leaning over his shoulder in an attempt to read it as well. One of his hands moves to pat the child on the head. The Robin’s arms grip around his neck. Clinging to him. He lets out a chuckle and continues reading the rules set in place for this new, but familiar game.

 

_‘Hello, my self-Inflicted-grandiose murderous Bat, I hope Jimbo did what I requested and made sure to get this letter to you. It would be such a shame, if he didn’t. I wouldn’t want to have to pay that darling little tyke of his a visit. Now would I? No one wants that. Anyway, I’ve had a lot to think about during that adorable Bat-nap of yours. Heh! Honestly, I was a bit surprised you didn’t sleep upside down. But, then again, you’re a Bat without a cave here. No sweet musty place to call home, I’m afraid. Sad. Arentcha pal? Such a tragedy for a homeless Bat. It’s okay though! You can snuggle up to me at night! I’ll keep you warm! Ah! I’m getting off topic again. You get the jest, Batsy. If you don’t play my game the hostages I have will die. Then again, I’m not sure, you’ll care about that, anymore. But, don’t worry. Like, I said, I’ve been thinking about you and had a eureka! I know, exactly, how to bring the big bad bat hidden inside you to come back once more. Aren’t, I just the bestest friend you could ever ask for? Don’t answer that. I know, it’s true. Why else would you have looked for me when you lost your own dashing lunatic? Hate to tell you this. But, honesty is the foundation of any healthy relationship. And, well. You’ve lost your way, but I got you covered! You know where to find me. I’ll be in the spot where you were thinking all about you and me. About what is going to happen to us in the end. So, tick tock. Don’t delay or the hostages get it! By the way. No kids allowed! Tootles! See you soon!_

 

_Xoxox._

_J~’_

 

The letter reeked of pure unadulterated desperation and it was a marvel how much the clown must have lost his marbles this time around. Batman smiles and hums to himself in contemplation. Wondering, what will happen If he chooses to play along with this type of game. It was obvious that the Joker still didn’t truly grasp how utterly different he was from the Batman this world used to have and it only intrigued Batman more. Left the door open for so many different possibilities never once before given to him. He stood up suddenly. The Robin clinging to his back jumping off him in response. He glanced at his pets and debated out of sheer pettiness if he should bring them along, all because the Joker told him not to. It would be quite amusing how the clown would react to that blatant disregard to his wants, but Batman ended up deciding that just this once he’d play by the clown’s rules. Besides, it held a bit of nostalgia for him that he didn’t want to ruin, too much. _At least not yet._

 

“Well, kiddos, go ahead and have as much fun as you want, _while I’m out on a date_ ,” he jokes then chuckles amused. The Robins crow in excitement, and then go straight for Gordon’s corpse. And, this time Batman doesn’t stop them. He had other other things on his mind. Particularly, what dance him and the clown would have this time around. Without hesitation he jumps over the rail. Knowing exactly where to head to reach his destination.

 

\- - -

 

The decrepit amusement park welcomes his arrival like an old friend coming to visit after several years long hiatus. However, it’s not as rundown as he remembers the place being on his world. Or, as destroyed as most places in this earth is as well. In fact, the differences is just a tad jarring for him and vastly interesting as well. This seemed to be one of the few places that in this particular Gotham City that the Joker has left untouched. Well, not entirely true. Just not blown to smithereens like everywhere else. In fact, it has obviously been altered quite a bit over the years.

 

He stands in the same spot that so many worlds share the same history for countless Batmans and Jokers alike. The spot where the two shared a laugh together after one hell of a bad day. The joke that always seemed to stay the same, no matter the world, because it fit the duo perfectly. Except, in this world, where this earth’s Batman and many others laughed holding the Joker in the rain, there was only a statue remaining to remember this worlds fallen Batman. A memorial. Batman observes the inscription written at the base. That simply read; _Rest In Pieces, Batman. Love The Joker._  It was morbid, but Batman knew it was how the clown expressed his twisted affection in his grief.

 

_His analytical mind of a detective was able to fit the puzzle pieces together effortlessly._

 

_This is the spot where this world in the dark story truly began._

 

_The moment where history diverged here._

 

_Gone down a different path._

 

_Where the unstable corruption that doomed this earth to die first took root._

 

What he doesn’t know is exactly how the Joker killed this world’s Batman. Before coming here, he only gathered small Intel. That Joker killed the Bat, then caused full on destruction on his world. But, that’s about it. Now, that he’s pieced together on what night it must have happened, it just brings everything into a new light. A new perspective. And, he wants to know that story. _Desires the knowledge._  Because, it’s something different. He’s found other Batmans that killed the Joker after the whole shooting Barbara ordeal. Even some that did so way before that. But, never something like this. Batman knows Joker wouldn’t be so forthcoming in telling him what he wants to know. Regardless, he could be very persuasive and he had full intention on getting what he wanted. Especially, if Joker wanted to play games with him then it was only fair that Batman could dig that metaphorical knife deeper into the Joker’s heart by bringing out all those unpleasant memories. Where there was no emergency exit this time around to set him free from all the clown would want to avoid. _No escape. Not from him._

 

_He liked to view this little relationship as a give and take._

 

_More like the Joker would be the one giving. And, only he would be taking. Heh._

 

_Speaking of twisting the knife._

 

_A brilliant idea pops into his head as he looks upon Joker’s loving memorial statue to a fallen Bat and he lets out a guffaw._

 

_The clown was always known to make flashy explosive entrances. And, it only seemed fitting that Batman announced his arrival in the same way and fashion._

 

Humming a song himself, he pulls out a Bat-shaped explosive that he was quite fond of carrying on his person. Takes a step closer to the statue. One finger tracing the Bat-symbol on the statue’s chest. Grin unhinged with self-indulgent sadistic glee. Nothing stops him from activating the timer on his small portable bomb. Placing it right on the base and knowing he only had about fifty seconds before the _boom_ goes off, he makes his way into the amusement park.

 

The cameras set up around the park confirms what he already knows. Joker is watching him. Waiting in wait for the games to start. There’s no doubt in his mind that in about thirty seconds any joyful mirth that the clown was experiencing right now would fade away into darkness. Sending the clown further down into madness. Ripping apart any small happiness that the Joker has left to feel. A beautiful piece of clay for Batman to mold into what he wanted. And, it was going to be an absolute pleasure to do just that. He only had thirteen days left on this earth, and nothing was going to prevent him from taking full advantage of the time he has. The best part is no matter how far he went, he couldn’t see this world’s Joker ever pulling away from him. A clown needed a Bat and he was all the clown had now. Static comes over on the speakers and Batman simply grins as he counts down the few remaining seconds left before what he’s done to what the clown held so close to his heart becomes obvious.

 

“Batsy! _I’m so glad you got my invitation!_ Now the fun-“ And, right on cue the explosive he left goes off. Shaking the ground around him, as he doesn’t even look behind him to see the small wreckage he’s caused. The flames lick the sky and brighten up the area. Prettier than any sunrise could ever hope to be. Hoping all the worlds in the dark can just see that tiny spark, although it’s implausible. It’s a nice thought regardless. He smiles towards one of the cameras. Easily, imagining the shocked and stricken look replacing that infamous smile the other murderer was known for. Batman hopes that the clown could at least appreciate the pretty fireworks he turned that statue into. It was all for him after all. He also knew how that sentence would have ended. And, he couldn’t agree more with it.

 

_That’s right, Joker. Now the fun can really begin. Hope you’re ready, because, here I come._

 

Silence is his only response to his actions and that only brings forth more sadistic glee for the laughing Bat. Joker must have been left speechless by his actions. Another reminder of what it truly means to play games with this particular Batman. Wondering if finally he’s shattered the clown’s delusions entirely. Yet, at the same time, wanting that to not be the case. There’s just so much more sights to be seen for the clown. Can’t have the party end too soon. He leans back a bit. Casts a beaming smile and waves his hand. His own way of informing the Joker that he isn’t finished just yet. Only, then does the Joker decide to grace him with a response through the speakers.

 

 _“Now.. that was just.. rude,”_ more silence follows and then a laugh breaks out through the static that sounds more like the clown was holding back a heartbroken sob. The laughter cuts off just as abruptly as it came. “I know what you’re _trying_ to do, Bats. Trying to get _under_ my skin. I’ve _danced_ those _steps_ before. Mastered that particular routine. As, you should be well aware. And, let me tell you. _It won’t work_.” His tone is downright dripping with venom then and despite the clown’s assertion to the contrary, Batman is aware that he’s hurt the clown in a way no one has in years.

 

Irrefutable in the fact that he’s taken away something that could never be gotten back. Something, cherished by the madman. And, the hilarious side to it all is that it really changes nothing if he did or didn’t. Because, this world can’t last. All, at fault of the clown’s previous actions. Joker’s story will reach its conclusion in the same amount of time, regardless, of anything Batman does here. But, Joker doesn’t know that little secret and Batman had no intention of informing the clown... _yet._

 

The speakers comes on once more. Joker’s voice more giddy this time around, but Batman can tell it’s feigned. That the clown is just playing a role that’s familiar to them both. “Anyway, despite, your _vicious_ display of lacking any _semblance_ of tact,” _You’ve seen nothing yet, Joker._ He thinks to himself as his grin expands wider. “Welcome, _Batman 2.0_ to _Batsy’s 1.0_ Memorial Park! Enjoy, your stay! Eat some poisoned popcorn! And, don’t forget to pay upfront at the ticket booth! It costs an arm and a leg to be here! _Hehe!_ But, for you, I’ll generously give a discount. How about just your head?” A long pause and then, “Good for ya, pal? _Thought so._ Take all the time you want to look around, but don’t forget about those hostages waiting for some dashing _washed-up_ hero to save them! Time might be on your side, _Bat,_ but, not theirs! So, _scooty_ that _tight ass_ of yours and enjoy the show!” Joker laughs loudly and midway through his laughing fit do the speakers cut off suddenly.

 

Batman shakes his head at the unrelenting theatrics display of the clown. Somethings, never changed. Even if they both knew that this Batman didn’t give a fuck in the world over some hostages. There had to be a catch there. That he was positive. It was the only way that Joker could ever expect him to play along with this game. Regardless, looking around the place did piqued his interest more than that paranoid thought process. He’d deal with the former when it came.

 

This place truly did give off the impression of a museum. The more he walked through the amusement park, the more different displays towards the Batman of this world’s history shines through brightly. Even the events after the hero’s death was prevalent. One particular display caught his attention. For inside what used to be a mechanical gypsy pay for a false psychic prediction booth, now had a rotting corpse dressed as Batman in it. An obvious, old bullet wound to the forehead as the cause of death. Blue orbs glances up at the green spray painted on words on the glass that simply read: _False King_. It occurred to him then who exactly the person once was. _This world’s Dick Grayson._ Adding more pieces to the puzzle to decipher this world’s line of events in order. An occurrence he’s seen on other worlds that when a Batman met his end, the first boy wonder would take up the mantel. And, by the state the corpse was in, limbs broken and stuffed into the booth, that no doubt must have driven the Joker farther off the deep end. Although, Batman was more disappointed that any person trained by his counterpart was able to fall victim so easily, in this case he deserved what he got. With slight disgust more towards the fallen vigilante than the murderer, he moves on in his exploration.

 

There were dozens upon dozens more attractions here that fell under the macabre. He found Barbara Gordon’s body strung up, with a rope tied around her throat at the top near the little bell to a strength test, her legs severed and repurposed to be used as grisly hammers instead. Which, Batman did not be reluctant to try out on that sick game. Being satisfied when he heard the bell ring in doing so. Continuing on, he found Scarecrow’s corpse tied to a pole in a mockery of his name. The second Robin, Jason Todd’s body was in a type of _whack a mole_ game, head sticking out of the hole, but barely recognizable, by his head being smashed in, if it wasn’t for the crowbars in a bucket next to it, Batman wouldn’t have known who it was. Tim Drake’s body was set up at a kissing booth, but his face had been cut off. He even found that Joker hadn’t been lying when he told his story of what he did to Riddler, when Batman found a canvas of a tapestry with cut up body parts sewn in to make a question mark artwork. Numerous sights were like this. _Each one all grotesque._ Each one factoring into this earth’s Batman’s past.

 

However, a few realizations became an oddity in the horror-land of a memorial park. No where did he find this world’s Alfred, or Lucius Fox bodies, but more importantly there was no body of Batman to be displayed in what would no doubt have been a shrine. Batman instantly figured out the reasoning for that and it only gave him more of an edge with the power play in any future encounters he’d have with this earth’s Joker. The clown had obviously never figured out who was behind the cowl. A fact that just made everything even more amusing given Joker didn’t even know the name of the only person a psychopath like the clown could ever love.

 

One particular attraction in the park of death nearly made the laughing Bat fall to the ground in the act that summed up his namesake. In a place reeking of corpses he was pleasantly surprised to find a living soul. Not for the sake that this woman was alive. More of her fate was worse than being dead. A caged carriage was set off to the side. Multiple children’s bodies tied up to the bars -said metal bars had hundreds of razors glued to them- of the cage by blinking Christmas lights. Their grins huge in their rigor mortis. Cattle prods jammed in their hands point inwards towards the cage. A sign off to the side that read: Warning, Feral Cat. Don’t Feed Peanuts. Which Batman busted up with loud chortles at reading. Inside the cage was a woman he knew very well. She paced around with a crazed look in her emerald eyes. One eye to be precise. For the other had been gouged out. Her once beautiful features had gotten a makeover by having a Glasgow smile carved into her cheeks and she was missing one arm. Dead eaten corpses of cats laid in a heap in the corner of the cage. Oh, yes. He knew this woman very well. If she could, even be considered, the same Selina Kyle also known as Catwoman that she once was. For, it was brutally obvious that the Joker in his usual state of jealousy towards the Cat spent a good amount of time in remodeling her into his liking. A parody of what she once was.

 

It was in that moment that he regretted not bringing his Robins along with him. They would have had the time of their lives here. Alas, hindsight was what it was. And, Batman would just have to bring them by later. He was also a tad surprised by not hearing from the Joker for awhile. His suspicions were starting to rake against his mind about what the madman might be up to. It was then that he decided it might be best to get moving along with this game of theirs. So, he blows the crazed former love of the Bat a kiss goodbye, laughing all the while and starts his search for the claimed hostages the Joker took.

 

Finding where he needed to go wasn’t all to difficult. For, the Joker basically left him a trail of breadcrumbs to follow in the form of green spray painted arrows to light the way. And, once he finally got to his destination he stopped in his tracks. Glancing up at the circus tent that’s entrance was closed off. This happened to be the moment where he learned that Joker wouldn’t hold back in trying to take his life. For, the second he tried to pull back the curtain, he nearly missed the trap wire that would have spelled a very unpleasant end. Jumping back, the movement caused the wire to snap and a hidden perched bucket of gasoline that would have coated him head to toe, barely missed him. The flamethrower going off that followed just hammering in the point even more so that he needed to be more careful. _A close call,_ that changed his mind set for this game. Adding a level of cautiousness he wasn’t used to having to dwell in anymore. Taking the more intelligent approach of not trusting any front entrances that the Joker had set up, he pulled out a knife and cut his way through one of the sides to get into the tent. His smile instantly turning into a thin line with what he was left to be greeted with.

 

About, ten corpses were tied together in the center of the tent. Signs on all their clothes that simply read: _Hostages._ It would have been hilarious that the Joker expected this particular Batman to bother trying to save them. They were already long dead.

 

_However, that wasn’t the joke._

 

_Not by a long shot._

 

_Wasn’t the catch into being forced to play this game._

 

_There’s always a catch when dealing with the Joker._

 

_This time was no different._

 

_Because, it was never about saving any hostages that Batman had to be worried about._

 

_What was really a concern was when the second he stepped in the tent, the timer had started._

 

_What he didn’t find very funny was the sheer amount of bombs placed around the so called hostages._

 

_Enough, to demolish several city blocks and not enough time to get clear of the blast site._

 

_With only about two minutes and thirty seconds remaining to defuse them all._

 

_The speakers turned on once more and Batman for the first time in a long while found the Joker’s laughter as the most loathsome sound in the world._

 


	5. Chapter 5

 It’s been years since the laughing Bat was in a position to have to defuse any explosives. That heroic aspect of his past was more of a distant memory. Most of the time these days, he was the one making and placing them. Not this time around and he wasn’t much of a fan of having to relive the old memories just to play the clown’s games. But, play he did. Because, well, there wasn’t much of a choice in that matter. So, there he found himself. Working on the first explosive in the tent. His annoyance palpable, but having to push it away to focus on his task. Bomb disposal wasn’t all that complicated for Batman. Except, in cases like this where the Joker was the one who created them. And, there was always the possibility that any of them could be a dud to throw him off and waste precious time or worse be tampered with to be more dangerous than the explosive ever would have been.

 

It also wasn’t very helpful when there was a note left behind telling him to cut the red wire, when all the wires were green. A sick joke that he had a hard time finding funny given the situation. If it wasn’t happening to anyone, but him then he’d laugh. However, he didn’t let it get under his skin. Didn’t allow the Joker’s antics with the bombs throw off his concentration. And, with the clock still ticking away and about ten more explosive to defuse, he didn’t have the time either to muse about it. Regardless, the madman’s commentary through the speakers was a lot more harder to ignore for Batman.

 

“We both know the bombs I set up here, Batsy, is for the _express purpose_ to give us both a happy ending... _That was denied to us the first time around._ ” Joker sounds desolate. Empty inside. As if he’s not even sure if that’s what he truly wants.

 

All Batman can think is that there is no happy ending for either of them. Not here. Not in the dark. Sure, he’s already gotten as close to one that was possible for someone like him. To live the remaining days of his life causing as much havoc as possible. He considered himself lucky to have not been washed away into the abyss along with his world. To have sparked the interest of the one he serves now. That the only savior came for him in a universe filled with nightmares that fed on the misery of all its inhabitants. All the fun he’s had since then. And, all the fun he’ll have in the future was as close to a happy ending he could ever receive. It had to be good enough for him. It was almost good enough. _Almost._ Joker couldn’t ever understand that. Was dragged down by hopes of the past. It wasn’t a sustainable way of thinking. That would only cause a pain worse than any world here could create. A tragedy in the making and one Batman had no intention of being drowned in as well. Gasping for air like a dying fish. He was better than that.

 

“Where’s that lovely smile of yours? _C’mon, laugh. Won’t you do that? For me?_ I’ll be your best friend!” The clown lets out a laugh of his own as if that would prompt Batman to join in. It doesn’t. But, he can’t blame the clown for trying. All, he does is continue his work. Focusing on every little mechanism to disable this one bomb to move on the next. Joker regardless continues his one-sided conversation unperturbed. “ _Aw,_ don’t be so grumpy. I know you’re having fun! It’s just like the good _ol’ Ha-Hacienda_ days. _Hmmm._ Still nothing? Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” Batman finishes with one explosive while the Joker was talking and quickly starts the process all over again. Trying his best to not pay attention to the timer in an effort not to be rushed and make a fatal mistake, but the clown doesn’t let him. “ _Oh! Lookie here!_ Only a minute and fifty five seconds remaining! _Can you do it?_ Can you save them? _Save us?_ Do you even _care_ anymore?”

 

Batman didn’t care about saving anyone, but himself. Not out of any inkling of self-preservation, but more out of the need to always win. No matter what is thrown at him. That one rule persisted. _Stayed strong._ It’s how he’s lasted this long. How he managed to kill off world after world in the dark. Super-powered heroes couldn’t stop him, because he would take any method necessary to score the victory. _Unstoppable. Determined._ Always getting the last laugh in the end.

 

Dealing, with the Joker though was more of a test to that vindication than anything. The clown would always push him to his limits and beyond it. Except, unlike other Batmans he would never lose. Refused to. With another bomb done, he goes on to the third. And, that one poses more of a challenge for him as it’s completely different than the previous two. A pipe bomb. Nothing he hasn’t handled, regardless, he still had to be extra careful. Take it apart with extra care. Which didn’t bode well for the time frame he has left. He’s unconcerned. _Confident._ Unbreakable by the games of a lunatic that can’t compare to him.

 

“Here’s the real deep questions to jumble around inside your mind,” Silence lasts for several long peaceful seconds for the Bat working away on the pipe bomb. Though, that was only an attempt by the Joker to give Batman a false sense of security and the sudden shout over the speakers nearly trips him up. Nearly. But, not well enough to cause a fatality. “ _Ping! Ping!_ It goes again. Rattling away,” Batman glares for just one moment at the camera, even if the clown can’t see his eyes, he knows he’s gotten his displeasure across. Joker doesn’t stop his comments. Not one bit and Batman does his best to let it through one ear and out the other. “Have you honestly _cared_ about _anything_ since you went on the _wrong_ path of life? Did you find any _meaning_ by playing a _role_ that was _never_ geared towards you?” A pause and a snicker follows. “ _I doubt it._ Dressing up as a _loon_ playing _hero_ was a more fitting position than whatever you’re _masquerading_ as now. Although, I understand you. _Why a Bat became a Clown._ You might not think that’s what happened. _But, trust me, it is._ You’re a _sad_ clown now. Maybe, not even a _Batman,_ anymore.”

 

When the pipe bomb is completely left useless, Batman moves to the other side of the so called hostages. Crouching down to work on the next explosive. However, the clown’s remarks start taking root in his thinking process. Slowing him down at this most inopportune time. He glances at the clock. He only has a little over a minute left. Not, very comforting. Still, he works away. The Joker’s comments like a corrosive on his mind. Tainting him in ways he doesn’t want to acknowledge. Leaving a lump in his throat. His sternum feeling like it will crack with the unwanted emotions. A crazed laugh is wrenched out of him. Shattering the negatives with something positive. _Laughter was always the best medicine._

 

“Understandable. It’s how you could only _deal_ with _losing_ my counterpart; _isn’t it?”_ That remark _stung_ like a knife rending flesh, severing arteries to leave him to bleed out on the floor, regardless he shakes off the ache in his heart and continues with the next explosive. Then another and another. Rinse and repeat. C4 explosives were the majority. _A classic._ It gets easier. Even the bomb he needs to defuse with a small portable _EMP_ to cause an electric shock doesn’t pose a problem with the tools he keeps on his person. Each explosive he works on he starts making record time with getting the threat neutralized. It’s familiar and yet there are still several more to go. A minute left and he was running out of time. Joker doesn’t seemed fazed by his progress and just continues in his taunts. “Making grief induced _decisions_ that pulled you under to drown in that _sweet loving embrace of insanity._ Is there a way to reach the surface, anymore? _I think so._ Don’t be glum! _It’s alright!_ I can fix everything!”

 

Batman scoffs at that particular comment. Shaking his head in exasperation. There was nothing about him that needed to be fixed. He was the perfect predator. The best version of a Batman there was. Molded by the balance each earth needed to thrive through the dynamics of the Clown and Bat.

 

_A chaotic union._

 

_A coupling of sorts between them both._

 

_Adapted in the way his Joker saw possible in him._

 

_Un-bested._

 

_Unrelenting._

 

_Unyielding._

 

_Cold and Calculating._

 

_It was enough for him._

 

“I lost a Bat, you lost a Clown. We can have a _second chance_ here, but only... _and I can’t believe I’m saying this..._ You get on the straight and narrow again,” A dramatic pause and then a loud scoff was heard. “Well as close to it as a Bat of your stature can. _Ya know,_ if you can even win this little game,” Batman knows he’ll win. One way or another. He always does, but Joker isn’t entirely convinced. “If you even still have what’s left of your _old self_ around, you’ll be able too. Either way, I’m just _peachy keen_ with it going one way or another. _Wanna_ know something funny? _You like jokes now, right?_ ” Batman prefers the jokes he tells now over the clown’s usual shtick. Jokers just could never see the full picture to fully appreciate this Batman’s particular humor. They never would be willing to go far enough to reach the potential he has. Another bomb done. Less than a minute remains. He’s running out of patience. Wanting to feel the clown’s bones break under his knuckles. Wants to have his turn to play. Or... something much more _enjoyable_ enters his mind. As _unpredictable_ in nature as its owner and one thought he’s _determined_ to see through to the end.

 

“Even if you defuse all of these party favors in time, I still have enough _boom-booms_ spread around this city to level it to the ground! _What pretty fireworks that would make._ Better than what you did when you got here!” Joker shouts suddenly. White hot rage coating his tone. Then ever so quietly, he adds dangerously. “Should I detonate them, Bats? _Would that make you finally see what I’m trying to show you?”_

 

After nearly getting acid splattered on his face from one of the dud bombs that he already predicted might happen with the Joker involved he stopped in his movements abruptly. The clown’s words ringing around in his head. He knew his own Joker well enough to have gained the ability to tell when the clown wasn’t bluffing and right now the tell-tale signs are there for this version of the Joker as well. The Clown Prince wouldn’t hesitate to do what he just threatened and contingency plans for that sort of outcome take center stage in his thinking process. He could leave this world at any time. That wasn’t a problem in the least.

 

Except, for the reasoning behind it wouldn’t favor well for a backup plan of that nature. A Batman that couldn’t even survive whatever game a Joker might play, without help, wouldn’t be a Batman at all. And, counting on being whisked away to save his own skin from this world wasn’t a possible probability with the one he serves. _He’d be left on his own._ Despite, being the leader of the other Dark Knights in preparation to attack the light above, the true ringmaster wouldn’t bother to intervene at the last possible second to rescue him. Not in this case at least. No problem. It was fine by him. He knew what he was getting himself into by joining the ranks. Besides, he wouldn’t have bothered either if their positions were reversed.

 

And, just like that a flashlight brightens the path that he must take. Only three bombs remain, and yet they no longer catch any of his attention. Even if he was clearly able to take care of them effortlessly he doesn’t even bother now. Only thirty second left, but now it feels like he has an eternity of time at his disposal. It’s insane the logic that captures him. Vaults him forward into his next actions. But, it hilarious how he didn’t think of this earlier. How much of a waste of time he’d been doing by playing by the Joker’s rules. When in reality he should have been playing by his own. A lack of judgment that he wouldn’t make again. A mistake, no matter how amusing, would not be repeated a second time around. Batman stands to his full height. Light from the rising sun in the distance spills through the hole he made in the tent and casts his shadow looming over the long dead hostages rotting forms. Hysterical gales of manic laughter bursts out of his throat as he casts his glance towards one the cameras in the tent.

 

“What in the _blue blazes_ are you doing, Bat!” Joker’s stunned volatile voice splutters out of the speakers. And, the Bat’s grin widens inhumanly large.  

 

_Hook line and sinker._

 

_Game over._

 

_Checkmate._

 

_Batman wins._

 

Taking a gambit was exactly what he was doing. One he should have done from the start. The cold metal of a barrel of an all too familiar gun rests under his chin. The gun that took the lives of his parents. He never went anywhere without it. Not for any sentimentality, but a reminder to always come out on top. No matter what he needed to do to accomplish that inevitability. Even now as it rests precariously against his exposed flesh. Threatening to redecorate the tent. His cowl would be able to take the impact otherwise and would prove pointless in his threat. His plan. And, he knows that Joker would have seen through his bluff if he wasn’t putting on a proper show. He can’t answer the clown’s question and doesn’t bother other than shrugging his shoulders for the camera’s view.

 

The tick tock of the timer continues to count down. Twenty seconds now remaining and the cards were in Joker’s hand. _Almost anyway_. It depended on if the maniac would be willing to lose his so called intended happy ending once again. Being alone in a world without a Batman. Even if only for a few seconds. Not able to go out together like his dreams would never allow. Batman just laughs. Staring at the camera, even if his eyes weren’t visible, his message would be mountainous towards the other man. He had no intention of following through on ending his life, but Joker didn’t need to know that.

 

“This isn’t funny. _Where’s that fighting spirit?_ Given up so soon?” Joker states. His utter displeasure and confusion coating each word in his tone. “We both _know_ you _won’t_ do it! Now get back to doing... _What you normally do_...” Fifteen seconds left and Batman can tell the other lunatic is getting nervous. He simply responds by pulling back the hammer. Finger tightening just a fraction on the trigger. Making his point clear that now the Joker was running out of time for them both. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. I can’t believe a Batman is taking the easy way out... _pathetic._ ” Joker growls out the words.

 

_Ten seconds remain now._

 

Batman wasn’t taking the easy way out as Joker called it. In fact he was doing something far better. For him anyway, not the clown. Making the clown realize after all this time he could never get the last laugh. Never win. And, would always depend on a Batman to make his life and also death matter. Joker was the pathetic one of the two. Unstable while also looking for stability from a man who dresses up as a Bat. And, even a counterpart was good enough for the clown to hold onto. Desperate, for something that could never be achieved. The best joke told since he got here. Seven seconds remain. He turns his back on the cameras. Even taking the pleasure away from the clown to witness truly how he bested him. And, just like that the timer stops. The tent fills with his insane chortles. _Like always, he’s won._ It wouldn’t have ended any other way.

 

 _‘This little detour of yours, isn’t going to end the way, you think it is.’_ The echoes of his dream hit him in that very moment. Knocking the breath out of his lungs. Like carving the reminder right into his flesh. For he’ll never forget it. Uprooting him of his victory in the psychological warfare he just played with a familiar foe. Batman needs to ignore the sudden feeling of dread. Let it dissipate and wither away. _Let it die inside him._ Crumble apart like the worlds in the dark. And, he almost manages it. It’s almost forgotten once more. _But, it persists._ Stays subtly in the back of his mind like a tumor waiting to strike him down. To teach him there is no way out of what he’s started. An ending to a dance that he can’t predict the final steps. Where the crowd wouldn’t be smiling at the end. He shakes his head. Hands falling limply at his sides. The irony that follows is it’s this earth’s Joker that pulls him out of the darkness this time around.

 

“We _need_ to _talk,_ Batsy... You know exactly  _where_ to look for me. Where you’ll see what you hide underneath that smile.” Is all Joker responds with for Batman’s seemingly suicidal stunt, voice sounding bitter and the speakers instantly turn off right after. As if the resonating curtain call was on the horizon. Another feeling embraces him. One more pleasant than the last.

 

And, he does know where to find him. In the one place the Joker would hide. A place where he once asked why Batman wasn’t laughing. Things have changed and now their positions would be reversed. He glances at the so called hostages. Pats one of them on the cheek. Smiling wide after he holsters up his gun once more on his utility belt hidden under his clothes. And, says. “It’s been fun chums, but I got a lesson to teach to a very naughty clown. You’ve all been lovely participants... _No. Really, I mean it_. You all were the best! And, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I have. _Don’t get up._ I’m sure another show is right on the way!” With another chuckle he leaves the tent that was supposed to be his tomb. Or more accurately what Joker thought would be the place to remold him by turning back the clock.

 

_The purple clad man hides in the hall of mirrors and the Bat pursues him without hesitation._

 

_Laughter on the wind and blood soon to be spilled._

 

_His or the clown’s it didn’t matter._

 

_As long as the dance continued._

 

_One way or another._

 

_Where enemies once fought after a bad day to be repeated into a good day instead._

 

_The best part was it’s not even breakfast time._


	6. Chapter 6

Some people would say that a reflection shows what a person truly is inside. Like looking into the mirrors of the soul, all the dark nasty secret little aspects that people lock away deep inside would finally be able to be gazed upon. That you can’t hide from yourself when you look in the mirror. Others would say that every visible flaw a person sees that reflects off the glass is just a figment of the mind. Insecurities shining through, but inaccurate all the same. But, in reality all a reflection truly is, is like a snap shot in the present time. Close to a photograph, but not as easily defined as one. Photons hitting atoms in the mirror is all it really comes down to. Nothing really special to take an interest in. Batman can acknowledge that blatant truth, but the Joker can’t seem to grasp that line of thinking. Falling more into the category of people that view reflections as more than they truly are.

 

It’s with that mindset that follows him like the multiple reflections in the hall of mirrors copy his every move. Knowing Joker wants to prove a point, like he did so long ago. However, like last time Batman wouldn’t hesitate to shatter that ideology the clown is going for this time around. History repeats itself, even if in the dark certain factors are always geared to spin a different way. _Counterclockwise._ But, always turning. Even if it’s always off.  Batman walks at a leisurely pace. Avoiding getting lost in the twisting hallways. Every so often he catches purple reflecting on the mirrors ahead of him. Like bread-crumbs to follow, but more chaotic given all the mirrors make it more disorienting.

 

Joker’s voice resounding through the maze is more help than the laughing Bat’s sight will ever be around this place. “I want to say I’m disappointed in you for not playing by the rules, _Grunge-Batty_ ,” Batman turns left down a narrow hall as he follows the clown’s boisterous speech. “I mean really? Risking your own life like that? _No._ Willing to end your own life! How am I supposed to even take that? Is dying besides me really that horrible that’d you’d do everything possible to escape the inevitable?” A breathily laugh follows suit of that remark. One that forces a snicker to come from the Bat as well. “It was just the right type of tripping on the tail-ends of... What’s the word? _Oh, yes. Fate,_ that I’d figured would make an Emo-Boy like you eat your heart out for,” Another turn is made and Batman barely avoids walking straight into a mirror. Needing to change directions all over again. “Then again. _With how you dress,_ I shouldn’t be surprised.”

 

Batman has no intention of letting the clown become aware of his bluff earlier. He knew the Joker’s temperament was reminiscent of a child’s when he didn’t get what he wanted. It just wasn’t a risk he was willing to take for the small petty pleasure he’d get out of it. No doubt in his mind that Joker wasn’t lying that he had the means to blow them both up at anytime he chose. This was the clown’s world. Not the Bats. In their chess-match Joker would have more opportunities to call checkmate than he would. But, that didn’t necessarily mean he was out of the game. That there weren’t any moves he could make to tip the balance of power in his favor.   

 

“Don’t _pretend_ that us _dying_ together is what you _truly_ want for this _ending_ between us,” his tone is loud enough to be heard across the distance between them, but still holds a fraction of the old Bruce Wayne charm in a lifetime so long ago that could bend party guests for extravagant events to his way of thinking. “Think bigger than that Joker. _If you even can_. Wouldn’t want to _bore_ me now, would you?” His barbed tone is like piercing flesh from a batarang with just a flick of his wrist.

 

He sees multiple Jokers in his field of vision off to his right. And, he continues his stroll through the maze. Getting ever closer to the clown. It wouldn’t be long now until the Joker would be in his grasp. An outcome that he could hardly wait for. Joker had no idea what was in store for them both this early morning. Couldn’t possibly contemplate that line of thinking. Only following an old script between them that was burned so long ago by actions set on two different worlds. But, soon the clown would see. Finally understand all of what they could become. If only he’d bend. Adapt to this particular Batman’s liking. He once changed his entire outlook because of a Joker and he felt that he was long overdue for the reverse to happen. Needed it like the air he breathed. It was the closest he could ever get to what he’s lost. All he’s missed. _Don’t think about him right now. Always a needless distraction. Unpleasant. Laugh instead._ Which he does. Forcing his mind right back into this particular game. And, he had no intention right now of letting this opportunity of his plans go to waste.

 

“Me, a _bore_?” He sees the reflections of the Joker place their hand over their heart. A sneer on that chalk white face. “Never Bats. _You on the other hand._ Not so much.” Batman doesn’t like that comment. And, his pace quickens as a result while the Joker falls further back from his pursuit. It doesn’t matter. He’d catch him soon enough anyway. All Joker was doing was starving off the inevitable for a few more minutes.

 

“I’d disagree, if only you’d seen the things I’ve done. _Even you would be amazed._ How it would _shatter_ what’s left of your _sanity_. Leave you _bleeding_ in the corner without a single _laugh_ to be _conjured_ to bring any sort of _comfort._ ” Batman states simply. With full conviction. Because, it’s true. The deaths of his former teammates. How he gave a little push to his favored son to follow along with his new outlook and path in life. The deaths of all his worlds hero. Of everyone. He’s seen the other Dark Knights worlds and even they couldn’t match him in pure brutality. It’s why he was chosen as their leader. Why he was the one that would bring the light above into the dark. All this Joker was is a nightmare for one earth while Batman would be one for millions. Has been one for hundreds. Incomparable in every sense of the word.

 

“We’ve both done things that wouldn’t be considered funny, Bats,” That catches him slightly off guard. Where the Joker going with this train of thought, he couldn’t decipher. “Gotham’s always fed upon our encounters. And, it was a feast for the ages. Then with just one huge mistake on both our parts starvation was the inevitable. _The difference is, Batsy._ Which one of us didn’t lose our way? Didn’t diverge from the path destined for our roles? _I’m still the Joker_ , but you aren’t a Batman anymore. And, there lies the tragedy. _You talk a big game_. I’ll even give you credit for the marvelous games you’ve played since your awakening to the funny side of life. But. _This is crucial._ What do you even see when you look at yourself in the mirror? My counterpart that changed you or yourself? Can you even see the difference? _Is there one now?_ Or at the end of the day _who_ is truly the one that’s _pretending_ between us?”

 

He stops momentarily in his tracks. His gaze casted at his multiple reflections. How much he’s truly changed over the years. Not just mentally, but psychically. _‘I like the new look. Really makes it hard to tell us apart anymore.’_ His Joker’s words in his dream sounding way to similar to this Joker‘s own declarations. And, for just one moment in time he feels like he’s facing his clown from his world again. That the snapping of one particular neck never happened. His mind never being rewired in the first place. Where he craves what this Joker is offering him. To go back. Experience the same routine they forged. To feel like his old self once more. It would be nice. A so called happy ending. Breaking the rules their worlds were established in. Just Batman and Joker and nothing else in the world would matter. Not the light above or the darkness of the abyss. It could happen. If he gave in just one more time to a Joker’s wishes. Have the only thing that’s truly mattered to him back when it once was lost. It’s one moment of clarity that could never last in the dark. Because, when he sees his reflection in the mirrors he knows his Joker got what he wanted. There was no more Batman. At least in the sense that all he once stood for was destroyed. Broken apart and replaced with a foundation geared towards the whims of a homicidal madman he fought against for years, but inevitably lost to.

 

_‘It was his last wish, that whoever killed him would become him.’_

 

And, Batman laughs in response. Holding his sides to keep himself upright. _The funny part._ What the core of it all comes down to is it doesn’t change anything. No amount of clarity could rectify his life now. With everything that’s happened there is no going back. All there was is the need to adapt. Just like his Joker foresaw. The past was a foolish dream to hold onto. One his comrades tried to do, but not him. There was nothing to even go back to in the first place. A faded away world. Everyone he knew and once cared for was long gone. Because, his Joker had won. However, he became so much more because of it. Batman doesn’t want what he can’t have. But, he’ll take what he can get. And, this time a Joker wouldn’t get the final say to who he truly is inside.

 

“You’re wrong.” He states.

 

“Am I?” Joker doesn’t believe him. And, Batman smiles wider at that. Ready to drive his point in.

 

“I did the one thing you couldn’t accomplish, Joker,” His voice is calm. Lacking any mercy that he just didn’t have any more. _“I moved on.”_

 

“If that’s true, Bat, then prove it. _Come_ and _find_ me. _Show me._ ” Joker states. His tone matching the Bat’s and the challenge is accepted gladly.

 

The center of the mirror maze is where he finds the Joker in wait for him. Their conversation going to the waste side for now. Blood pumping through their veins as huge matching grins spread wide for them both. He spreads his arms wide. As if offering a loving embrace towards the other. One made out of violence. A reminder of what they used to be. And, Joker doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t hold back on the brutality he was known for. Violence has always been their relationship. What reasons that fueled it might have changed, but their dynamic stayed the same. A knife slices the side of his clad leather arm. Rending the flesh underneath. A punch to the Joker’s face in response gives the whimsical sound of a crunch. A dodge to the left as acid from a withered flower spurts freely nearly leaves him with a agonizing burn. Each hit, kick and attack is completely in sync. _A dance. Their dance_. Nostalgia for them both. The only happiness they could achieve through the volatile actions towards each other.

 

Batman almost breaks the Joker’s arm without thinking, barely stopping in time, instead to only slam the clown’s back into one of the mirrors. Glass falls to the floor as well as the knife. It doesn’t stop the madman. A shard of glass is just as effective of a weapon. One that stings and splits his skin all the same with contact. His heartbeat pounds away in his ears. The leather causing him to sweat underneath his attire. He flips the Joker over his back onto the ground. Delivering a kick to his ribs that makes the clown cough up blood. For one split second he thinks he won this easily. However, the fighting doesn’t stop when he feels another stab wound in his leg that throws him off balance just long enough for an opening and the Joker is fast like always. Always fast. Insanely so. Ramming them both almost through a mirror if Batman didn’t grab the sides in time to stop their decent. Cutting open his fingers and palm deeply. Making his grip slip. They almost fall. But, he catches his balance just in time. Allowing him a chance to throw Joker off balance. Batman retaliates just as brutally by grabbing the Joker by the hair _-that is way too soft to the touch-_ and slamming the clown’s head into his knee. He leans back, holding the sides of the mirror once more. Jumping upwards and kicking the clown’s shoulders, dislocating the arm and forcing Joker backwards with no balance to keep the maniac in check. Joker only has less than a second to pop his arm back in place. A monetarily distraction. Batman takes it to his advantage. Lunging forward he delivers blow after blow on the lithe body in front of him. Only a small part of his mind tells him to resist killing his dance partner. Joker doesn’t have the same regard towards the laughing Bat. Not one bit. And, every single one of his actions towards the other reflects this. Leaving just as many wounds as was delivered on to him.

 

Their fight continues with an added spice of brutality. Reminiscent only for Batman of his world’s Joker’s endgame plans to in other words break up with the Bat. Not a history they shared as this Joker killed his playmate way too early for that event to transpire. It only hinders the clown. Doesn’t give him the edge needed to win. Despite, all the misery Joker might have brought upon this world of his, he didn’t have enough experience fighting a Batman that had more years under his belt between the two. Cards and batarangs fly through the air and slice into their skin. Bones barely avoid being broken. Both matching each other in skill. Knowing each other’s moves before it’s even made.

 

Batman’s bloodlust was growing with each injury they inflict on each other. Every second he gets closer to losing any concept of self-control. His restraints barely withstanding. Until, they vanish completely and the power balance shifts exponentially. And, just like he predicted it doesn’t take long before he has his arm tightly around the Joker’s throat. Back pressed against his chest as the clown’s hands grip onto his arm. What he didn’t predict was his inability to act much more after that. To become shell-shocked in that moment. Seconds tick by in growing silence. His grip tightening and the clown gasping for breath or to laugh, he isn’t sure. He should be able to follow through with ending the clown. It’s what his body was screaming at him to do, where his mind was leading him during the fight, but his heart isn’t in it. All he can see is the past. Where the snap of a neck broke him apart inside. _Changed him._ Made him lose the only person who understood him. _Who loved him in a way no one else could_. Who saw his potential and cruelly made him see the light, but to be left to traverse the dark alone. The only regret he’ll ever have.

 

 _“Batsy, do it...”_ Joker barely gets out audibly. _“Give me a happy ending... or give in to what we both need... There’s no other way for us...”_ The words are just enough to snap him out of his memories. Brings him back to the present. And, with it a new clarity that finally feels right for him. Like how it was always supposed to go.

 

“Our old relationship was a tragedy. A one way collision course and with no ramps to get off. Toxic and fatal. How I am now, though,” Batman slams the Joker’s head into the glass mirror next to them. Shattering it on impact. The clown lets out a choked chuckle. And, without Batman’s support the madman would fall to the ground. Obviously disoriented. Both injured, but he holds up just a bit better than the clown in that moment. Batman watches through the multiple reflections around them. How the blood flows freely downward from the open wound now on that chalk white skin that is so much like his own. Mirror images they truly were. And, he’s self aware to know it. Not fight it. Or, hold back against what he wants when he sees that pink tongue lick away a dribble of crimson. He wants a taste. Mildly fascinated and as rapidly as his heart beats in his chest so does how quickly he becomes aroused. Pressing his body closer to the other’s back. In a crisp tone the Bat continues.

 

“That’s something beautiful for us. Where we won’t free fall without a parachute to plummet to our deaths,” His feather like touch moves to the murderer’s heaving chest. Slowly undoing the buttons of the Joker’s green dress-shirt one by one. Continuing unhindered, he states adamantly. “What I’m getting at, is this reunion Joker, can be so much more than it ever was, if only you’d let it,” He grumbles out. Taking just a few seconds to let that sink in for the clown. Then remarks. “That's all there is to say. Let me show you instead.” The fabric rips in half suddenly. Echoing in the small space around them.

 

“What are you doing, Bat?” Joker’s tone is bemused. Like his mind has stopped working with the Bat’s actions. Which was probably accurate. It’s a new routine for them both. Hell for all the universes. _A different way to fight. A different union._ One that will without a shred of doubt reek of violence as all the others.

 

“I’m giving us what every Batman and Joker in every world is too stubborn to give into their true desires. Their true happy ending. One just for us.” It’s all the warning he gives, before his hand slides down the Joker’s bare chest. Stopping at the clown’s belt. The unbuckling sound is deafening for them both. And, for just one second he hesitates. It’s uncharted territory. Uncertainty weighing him down. Feeling more like his old self than ever before. Unable to proceed on his own. One damning decision he needs Joker’s approval with following through. He receives it unspoken when the clown turns his head just enough to look at him. Those pin-pricks in acidic green expanded even more than he’s ever seen before. All of it filled with love. _For him._ Or, for a counterpart lost and he’s just a replacement. Either way, it’s enough for him. He won’t stop now. He can’t stop now. Batman doesn’t even process when the purple slacks fall and pool at Joker’s feet. Or, how he gives a reassuring kiss to the back of the Joker’s head. If it was for him or the clown he’ll never know. His free hand slips more downwards. Feeling the other lunatics harden length through the fabric of polka dot boxers. Arousal clearly evident. Both in the same predicament. But, wouldn’t go unfinished. Not for long.

 

However, a long dead side of him can barely let him continue. Fights back against the idea of a true union between the Bat and the Clown. Old habits die hard. And, Batman still needs a little more push to follow through in this endeavor. A distraction for his mind to have no restraints. An idea sparks him easily enough. One that is cruel in nature. But, the maliciousness behind it is what will let them go the distance. To achieve what they’ve always wanted and never could have until now.

 

 _”Joker, tell me your story,”_ The Bat chuckles against him suddenly. His teeth grazing the other maniac’s neck. Biting down roughly, sinking into flesh, feeling the shudder the clown’s body has against his chest. Tasting delicious copper that is no doubt as toxic as its owner and still he licks up the life-supply greedily. “How _Batman_ died. How you _killed_ your world.” He purrs out his demand. Knowing his words would be like swallowing arsenic for the clown.

 

“How romantic, _darling,_ wanting to talk about _dead lovers_ now of all times.” Joker says venomously. _Dangerously_. A warning in his mocking remarks. But, the thin veil masking the intentions are clear as day.  Joker doesn’t want to discuss this topic. Would avoid it like the plague. Any other Batman might have let him. Regardless, this one wouldn’t even dream of it. Won’t ever let the Joker escape any unpleasantness.

 

“He was _never_ your lover,” His apathetic voice provokes the clown to almost get out of the predicament. To wrench free from the Bat. Start the fight anew. He predicts this and forces the clown’s body to press harder against the mirror. Hands grabbing the clown’s wrist to keep them splayed against the glass. Entrapping him. He knew the other murderer was angry at his comment. For dismantling any illusions the Joker might have had of this world’s dead Batman. But, at the same time it was like foreplay for them both. A constant struggle against each other. One side needed to come out on top. He wasn’t sure this time around if that would be him. Although, for both their sakes he needed to play his cards right.

 

“But, _I can be._ If you just _give_ me what I want.” He growls in the Joker’s ear. Doing his best to make his voice sound more like it used to before his transformation. To resemble the Batman of the past. And, it works, sucks away all the resolve the Joker has against fighting this demand. Although, the clown is still bitter about it.  Glaring daggers at the laughing Bat through the broken mirror.

 

“I should like your laugh, _ya know?_ It sounds almost like _my Bat_ did that night. Like a time capsule that only I get to open when I’m around you. It’s only logical that it would bring me any sort of happiness,” Joker starts to say, voice desolate, lost to old memories and Batman hums in response. Letting the clown know he’s listening. That he’s an anchor to grab onto. Although, a toxically fatal one at that. His hands moving away from the Joker’s wrist. Sliding across the purple fabric in a comforting motion. Leading him to grab the clown’s chin and tilting his head to the side to deliver more bites on the chalk white skin. The other freeing the Joker’s arousal from its confines. Stroking slowly up and down the harden flesh. Gentleness that is foreign for him, but more used to manipulate the Joker into continuing his train of thought. A needy sound escapes the Joker and a shiver runs down the Bat’s spine just by hearing it. Almost, making him abandon any restraints to not get the show on the rode until the Joker finishes his story. But, curiosity wins out in the end. A breathily laugh escapes him at his depleting lack of control there. And, Joker almost goes stock still at the sound. Bitterness radiating off of him in spades and catching all of Batman’s attention instantly.

 

“But, the _maddening_ thing is hate that sound, Batsy,” he confides to the Batman Who Laughs. Hips buckling to speed up the stimulation the former vigilante was giving him. Seeking pleasure to block out the pain in his heart. “A sick joke is what it is. _Irony that shouldn’t be funny._ And, in some ways it’s not.” Joker goes silent, and the Bat thinks he’s lost him. His hand moves to the clown’s neck. Squeezing with just enough pressure to garner his attention once more.

 

“You’re not answering my question.” He reminds him softly. Not being distracted to much by the Joker’s sudden silence. Although, losing a bit more interest in the conversation. His own desires starting to take a hold. Isolating him away from the reasons why he started this conversation.

 

 _“Oh, but I am,”_ Joker shakes his head. A low groan comes freely when Batman picks up the pace with his movements. One finger circling the tip. Pulling out more wanton pleasure from the lithe body. “My playmate was _prepared_ for anything, just like you seem to be, _except_ for _one_ thing,” Another pause as Joker notices the hand leaves his throat. His boxers being dragged down his legs. The sudden cold blood slick fingers enter the clown. Preparing him as the Bat spreads the muscle. Fingers curling inside. Twisting each way and that. Loosening him even more. Hitting a spot deep within that makes the lithe body jerk. Raspy gasps fill the air. The pleasure lighting a fire for the Joker, the sensation of witnessing such a sight maddening for the Bat. _Dropping both their guards._ Taking them where they never went before. A zipper resounding in the small space as Batman takes another moment to free his own arousal. Almost ready for the plunge. Except Joker doesn’t continue speaking. The fingers slide out of the Joker as punishment for the growing silence. One he receives a glare for that would kill him if it could. It doesn’t bother him. Preparing him was all the kindness he was willing to offer the maniac anyway. If the Joker couldn’t appreciate it and play by the Bat’s rules then it was the clown’s own damn fault. He opens his mouth to comment on this, but the clown beats him to it.

 

“Are you prepared to fall, Bats? _There’s no turning back afterwards_. Is the answer of how one Batman died worth it to you?” Joker challenges the darker version than this world’s Batman could have ever been. A challenge that needed to be met before any information would be exchanged. And, it’s one harder to face than he ever expected it would be. He was counting on his own cruel nature to spur him on. Feed into his sadism and break the clown mentally. The one thing that was keeping him going, but Joker has caught on to his games. A price needed to be paid. To fully given in to everything they once fought against. Batman sees in slow motion the fight returning in those acidic green eyes. His once thought of victory disappearing from him. Batman can’t let go of this. Not right now. Already too far gone.

 

"Even now you still _want_ to _fight_ me?" He questions incredulously. A facade of a laugh leaves his throat. _“I can go another round,”_ His bite to the clown’s shoulder explicits a soft, needy sound that was almost a moan rippled out, before Joker could stop it. Telling the Bat what he wanted to know. Joker was enjoying this to much as well. That he might not have to give in before he’s fully ready. “But, you look a little _rough_ there.” His smile is predatory. Thinking that the clown will give him everything he wants. However, Joker squashes that mindset instantly.

 

“We’re _always_ fighting, Batsy. _Nothing’s changed there._ Although, right now you’re the one hesitating to see any of this to completion.” It’s the breaking point for the Batman Who Laughs. The final straw on snapping his restraint. He knows that Joker has flipped his intentions right back around on him. Stolen the game right under his nose. Yet, he can’t find it in him to care anymore. He uses the blood coating the Joker’s face and his own life supply from his bleeding hand during their fight to coat his erection.

 

Fall he does. _Only for the Joker._ Because, at the end of the day the clown is the only person he could give himself fully. To let the balance of power slip from his grasp. Meeting the challenge head on. It’s what they’ve always needed, but Batman would always have to be the one to bend to ever reach their hidden wanton goals of any form of a relationship. When he finally enters the clown, both let out a low lustful moan that sounds like a twenty’s Broadway musical to his ears. A symphony better than Mozart and Beethoven combined. _The feeling is intoxicating._ Everything he’s ever wanted, but was denied to him. Joker might have won this time, but both were pleased with the result. The first hard thrust is exquisite. Tainting them both in a shared misery. Because, even if he leaves this world, he’ll never be the same. Always craving the maniac he knows so well despite the differences of their two worlds. This Joker has got to him in a way his own didn’t. And, Joker will be reminded that he can never have had this with any other Batman, but the one that will forever remind him of the night he lost his dance partner.

 

“Finish your story,” Batman rasps out through a shaky breath. Another thrust to emphasis his desire. Showcasing his callousness. Uncaring of the mental damage it will inflict on the Joker. It’s part of the game for him. Part of the pleasure. He craves it. Causing psychical and mental anguish. And, Joker gives in to him freely. Desperately, but the pain of needing to is still palpable to them both. Giving only a slight edge to the Bat in their dance with each other. His smile goes unhinged at the Joker’s words. Relishing in every mental pleasure it gives him and rewarding the Joker all the same with violent motions. Nails scratching red marks into the chalk white skin. Pain and pleasure suited them both just fine.

 

“A _knife_ in the _heart_ is a real _bittersweet_ way to clip a Bat’s wings,” Joker mutters through a groan. His back arching to meet the Bat’s painful thrust. Desperate for them to be closer. Using it as a life line. “Might as well have went through mine as well. Sure as... _fuck!_ ” He growls in cardinal lust when his head is forced roughly into the shards of broken glass. Etching into his skin. Letting more crimson to stain his body in their deeds. _“felt like it,”_ He finishes. Chest heaving. Barely standing up if it wasn’t for Batman’s arm wrapped around his torso. So, tightly wrapped around that the clown’s ribs could break at any second. There’s a long silence from the Bat. Seeming to think of the Joker’s confession. The puzzle pieces finally put together.

 

 _“Heh, feelings mutual.”_ Batman whispers against the Joker’s neck. Not expanding on his comment as they lose themselves to each other. But, it’s meaning deeper than he’ll ever let be known. Because, just being with this Joker like this is a metaphorical knife in his own heart. Wishing for things that could never last. _Could never be._ And, a small reminder of how once his own Joker’s heart stopped beating the toxin there was released to change him. The not so different ways both of their lives have changed. Batman does his best to ignore it. No, longer caring for the other parts of the story that rake his intrigue. He’s with the Joker in a way he’s always secretly desired. And, he won’t let the moment go to waste. His cock plunging deeper into the warmth the Joker’s body has to offer. Soaking up every pleasant sensation the lithe form can give him. Greedy in nature. Perhaps, even more needy than the clown could ever have been for this type of attention from a Batman.

 

A lone thought occurs to him however. A primal need to mark what is his. To have the Joker always remember him till the end of his days. Sure, that might only be thirteen days from now, but that didn’t really make a difference. He pulls back slightly. Grunting when his cock slides out just a bit from the only person who makes him feel complete. Watching as glazed green orbs widen at his movements and ruby painted on lips open about to protest the miscommunication of his intent. Batman doesn’t give him time too. His free hand shoots forward. Grabbing the edges of the broken glass. One rough yank is all he needs to dislodge a shard. Pretty sure that the Joker is questioning his actions even more so now. It didn’t exactly give off the most innocent impression. Only to be confirmed when the Joker comments.

 

“Terrible _timing_ as always to _change_ your mind, Batsy,” Joker moves his hips back, entrapping the Bat’s cock once more, all the way to the hilt and this time Batman lets out a desperate moan of his own. Deep and gruff. Almost dropping the shard of glass in the process from the sudden assault to his system. Like a jolt of electricity from electric shock treatment Arkham was infamous for. His cock twitching with added pleasure. So, close to spilling his seed he barely keeps it in check. “I told you to let me have my curtain call first, _sweetums_.” The Clown regards him with a knowing smirk on his face. Seeing the effects he had on this particular Batman. Another battle going in his favor.

 

Although, the words don’t have the same effect on Batman. Only making his need even more uncontrollable. With the realization he doesn’t want this Joker dead. _At least not right now._ If ever. A thought that the old tricks of self-denial would only keep him afloat for the days to come, regardless right now they don’t make an appearance.  His grip in the green hair tightens painfully. Yanking the clown’s head back hard.  Almost snapping the bones in the force he deploys alone and narrowly avoiding doing the one thing he was very much adamantly against right now. Losing all his poor attempt of controlling himself. He only utters one word in the Joker’s ear. The final damnation to any Batman for any world, but only he would experience. **_“Mine.”_** And, the shard of glass meets flesh as much as his skin does. Sinking deep into the Joker’s chest as his thrusts turn as violent as his actions. He was always known for talking these days, but words leave him when he needs them most. His free hand moving in the directions it needs to for a more proper way to get his point across. Embracing the Joker closer to his body. Tilting the Joker’s head the way he needs it to be. Then capturing the Joker in a awkward positioned kiss with bruising force. It’s return to him tenfold. Neither holding anything back.

 

He’s glad the clown can’t see his eyes. Positive that all the emotions he feels and tries to hide would be out on display at the moment. Another thing he’s thrilled about is the clown’s ever present high pain tolerance. A masochist that gets off on the only type of affection this Batman could ever give. The shard of glass cutting into the Joker’s flesh. Leaving the Bat’s mark. A symbol that would be cherished. One that won’t be forgotten even if the dark they live in takes the clown away from him. Moans fill his mouth. Teeth rending lips. More pressure pushed downwards with the glass shard. Tongues doing a dance of their own. Copper taste that drives him deeper over the edge. Pushing him further into this Joker’s world where he might not ever want to leave. Despite, the goals of the one he serves. Hell in this one moment in time, he might have willing abandoned all the fun he could have in the light above just to stay on this soon to be dead world. The sound of flesh smacking against each other is drowned out by their heavy breaths. Sounds of passion meant for each other. Only when Batman knows his claim has been made on the Joker’s skin does he break the kiss. When they part they stare at each other. Blood trickling down the Joker’s forehead from new wounds caused by the spiked headpiece the Bat wears.

 

When Batman disregards the shard of glass to the ground, does Joker look in the mirror to see what Batman has done. A bloody bat carved into the chalk white skin chest is as beautiful as autumn leaves. He takes delightful pleasure in the smile he receives for his actions. His thrusts slowing down to a stop to take the adequate appreciation of how the Joker runs a purple gloved hand fondly over the bleeding mark of a bat-symbol. One that should heal and scar before this world fades away. If Batman’s lucky, but with how rapidly the Joker can heal he thinks it’s a safe bet. It’s then that he wants to change their positions. Pulling out of the Joker’s body slowly. Carefully. And, a annoyed look is thrown his way, but it doesn’t stop him in the least with grabbing  the Joker by the shoulders, turning him around to face the Bat head on.

 

“Out of breath already, _Twink Leather Daddy?_ Need me to take over?” The clown jokes half-heartedly, although there isn’t much amusement to come forth in his words. At least in Batman’s mind as his focus was elsewhere. It doesn’t last long at all. Because, the new nickname makes him lose it to a laughing fit once it finally registers in his mind. This time Joker is the one holding the Bat up from collapsing to the floor. Hands gripping the leather clad hips. Joker’s smile widening as he seems to actually genuine enjoy the laughter, despite what he’s stated previously.

 

“What did you just _call_ me?” He questions amused only once he’s calmed down enough to even get a word out. Somewhat taken aback. Being used to having to receive pet names was one thing he could expect from a Joker, but that was a new one to be added to the ever long list.

 

Joker simply shrugs his shoulders. A slight wince for the action from the state his body was in that he simply disregards with a small burst of guffaws. “ _What?_ It’s shorter than what you _choose_ to _call_ yourself,” He waves his hand dismissively. “Anyway, don’t deflect, Bat, _so is it my turn now?_ ” His grin takes on a sadistic nature it was known for and Batman mirrors the infamous smile.

 

“ _Ha!_ Not on your life, but I have a _new_ position you’ll like,” He replies, voice coated in lust and his breath raged. Sweat dripping down the sides of his face. Joker gets the hint when the Bat tilts his head. Kicking off the clothes at his feet for more access. In a flash Joker is  lifted up off the ground. Hands gripping his thighs to hold him up right. As Joker wraps his arms around the Bat’s neck. A playful smile on his countenance that steals the laughing Bat’s breath away. Stealing any remains of sanity that might have still existed inside a man like him. Sending his mind into overdrive of a fog that can only ever get back to normal by being with the Joker in the one way they’ve achieved when no other counterparts have done.

 

No more words are spoken as both fall into their animalistic nature. His cock reaching deeper inside than it did before with the change in position. Slamming the Joker’s back into the mirror roughly. Almost completely shattering it and Joker chortles in response to the Bat’s vigor. It’s obvious to them both who is more pining for the other. Desperate in every action. And, it’s as a unpredictable realization than either would have bet money on. One that both won’t utter on for the time being. Much to absorbed in the pleasure that is coursing through their veins. Getting them closer to the edge.  Both heartbeats pounding away in the same rhythm. Grunts and moans of wanton desire replacing sentences. Living for the moment. Away from all restraints that could hold either of them back. Minds breaking apart to only be remolded each time their bodies connect. Sweat dances across their skin. Blood from open wounds mixing together in chaotic harmony. _A new dance._ A new way to destroy each other. Because, there was no way they would come out of this encounter unscathed.

 

Time disappears for them both. The building pressure capturing them. Although, the Bat would most likely reach it first at this rate. Batman doesn’t let that happen. Using his body to keep the Joker stable and not falling, he uses one free hand to wrap around the Joker’s cock. Pre-cum already soaking his hand. He matching his up and down motions on the harden flesh to the speed of his thrusts. Determined to make the clown lose out first between them. A small victory he needs after how far he’s fallen this morning. Pressure builds within him. Vision blurring and only thing his sight can capture is the Joker’s look of unadulterated bliss. His movements stagger. Legs wanting to buckle underneath him. And, he loses this game once again when a white hot pleasure bursts inside him. His skin burning like an inferno. His seed spilling out of him. Soaking deep inside his former nemesis. To dizzy with the climax he feels to continue up the pace he’s set for the Joker. Luckily or unluckily the other madman helps him out. Reaches down between them to wrap his gloved hand over the Bat’s pale hand. Continuing the motions. One. Two. Three more and it pushes the clown over the edge shortly after the Bat. Skydiving into the abyss. Breathless cries of pleasure exploded into the air. Motions continuing long enough to leave them dry. Steal everything from them both. Firecrackers going off in their minds. Or, more like explosions leveling countless cities to the ground.

 

They still all movements. Lost in the bliss of their coupling. Both feeling as they were flying higher than even Superman could ever hope to achieve. Embracing each other in a closeness that was long overdue. Green eyes open tiredly to gaze at the Bat. A knowing look is given that is a cancer in the Bat’s soul. Analyzing him in a way only the Joker could. Seeing every dark secret that was buried deep within. Pulling it out to the surface to be gawked at. Prodded and tainted. A final victory for the Joker that Batman wasn’t prepared in dealing with. His heart stops in his chest. Unable to look away from that piercing toxically intoxicating stare.

 

And, that’s the moment that reality hits Batman harder than any bullet in an alleyway or a snap of a neck could compare. The weight of his actions suffocating. What he’s basically freely given away. He pulls out of the Joker’s body quickly. A grunt escaping his lips for doing so following the action of dropping the Joker to the ground unceremoniously. Ignoring the indignation the irritated clown spats out for his lack of care. Rapidly sheathing himself once more as he takes an uncoordinated step back from the scene in front of him.  

 

_A need to flee takes over him._

 

_Self-denial wanting to crawl it’s way out, but he wasn’t in any position to allow it too._

 

_All he knows is he needs to breathe fresh air again and not the scent that lingers in this hall of mirrors._

 

_Batman doesn’t say a word as he turns to leave._

 

_To get a grip on his bearings._

 

_Fight through every consuming conflicting emotion he feels._

 

_Unable to handle what the Joker has noticed._

 

_What he foolishly let slip out._

 

_Although, he makes one mistake in his haste to escape._

 

_One so crucial he’ll be cursing himself for days once he realizes it._

 

“It was more than _breaking_ my counterparts neck that changed you, _wasn’t it, Bats?_ You said the _feelings mutual_ when I told you my story. _Something_ about _your story_ had to do with the _heart_ right?” Joker’s tone is smug with the new found knowledge. Very dangerous Intel to have on for this particular Batman. Especially, given who now understood what exactly happened that created him. Changed him from the old Batman into the new. Another damning piece of insight into the laughing Bat that should have never been shared. _Not with the Joker._ Never with the Joker.

 

_And, the mistake that the Batman Who Laughs makes is that he doesn’t deny the Joker’s assertion before he leaves the hall of mirrors to returns to the streets of Gotham City that would never be his own._

 


End file.
